HD  8081  . A5  D5  1913 
Dimock,  Leila  Allen. 
Comrades  from  other  lands 


I 


COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


Interdenominational 
Home  Mission  Study  Course 

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Under  Our  Flag 

By  Alice  M.  Guernsey 

The  Call  of  the  Waters 

By  Katharine  R.  Crowell 

From  Darkness  to  Light 

By  Mary  Helm 

Conservation  of  National  Ideals 

A  Symposium 

Mormonism ,  The  Islam  of  America 

By  Bruce  Kinney ,  D.D. 

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By  John  R.  Henry ,  D.D. 

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Comrades  from  Other  Lands 

By  Leila  Allen  Dimock 


oys  at  Work  in  a  Coal  Breaker 


Issued  under  the  direction  of  the  Council  of  Women 
for  Home  Missions 


COMRADES  FROM 
OTHER  LANDS 


What  They  Are  Doing  for  Us  and 
What  We  Are  Doing  for  Them 

By  ✓ 

LEILA  ALLEN  DIMOCK 

k  ~c 


New  York  Chicago  Toronto 

Fleming  H.  Revell  Company 

London  and  Edinburgh 


Copyright,  1913,  by 
FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY, 


New  York:  158  Fifth  Avenue 
Chicago:  125  N.  Wabash  Ave. 
Toronto:  25  Richmond  St.,  W. 
London:  21  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh:  100  Princes  Street 


“  Let  us  welcome,  then,  the  strangers, 

Hail  them  as  our  friends  and  brothers, 

And  the  heart’s  right  hand  of  friendship 
Give  them  when  they  come  to  see  us. 

Gitche  Manito,  the  Mighty, 

Said  this  to  me  in  my  vision. 

“  I  beheld,  too,  in  that  vision 
All  the  secrets  of  the  future, 

Of  the  distant  days  that  shall  be:. 

I  beheld  the  westward  marches 
Of  the  unknown,  crowded  nations. 

All  the  land  was  full  of  people, 

Restless,  struggling,  toiling,  striving, 
Speaking  many  tongues,  yet  feeling 
But  one  heart-beat  in  their  bosoms. 

In  the  woodlands  rang  their  axes, 

Smoked  their  towns  in  all  the  valleys, 

Over  all  the  lakes  and  rivers 
Rushed  their  great  canoes  of  thunder.” 

— The  Song  of  Hiawatha. 


CONTENTS 


I.  Hard  Coal  and  Breaker  Boys 

II.  Soft  Coal  and  Coke  Ovens 

III.  In  the  Open  Country 

IV.  Gardeners  and  Fruit-Growers 

V.  In  the  Construction  Camp 

VI.  Children  in  Canneries 

VII.  With  the  Lumber-jacks  . 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

Boys  at  Work  in  a  Coal  Breaker . Frontispiece 

Uncle  Sam’s  Canary  Bird . .  23 


How  Uncle  Sam  Cares  for  the  Canary  Birds .  23 

Some  Comrades  from  Other  Lands — Group  Slavic 


Children  Anthracite  Region . 33 

A  Camp  School . .  50 

A  Railroad  Construction  Camp .  53 

A  Mother’s  Class  at  Valhalla  Camp  School _  53 

Log  Driving . .  70 


1 


I 


HARD  COAL  AND  BREAKER  BOYS 

Scouts  know  neither  a  higher  nor  a  lower  class,  for  a  scout 
is  one  who  is  comrade  to  all,  and  who  is  ready  to  share  what  he 
has  with  others. — Boy  Scout  Handbook. 

HOW  lovely  were  the  valleys  of  eastern  Pennsyl¬ 
vania,  in  the  days  of  Indian  wigwams!  The 
stately  forests  were  a  green  mantle  on  the  hill¬ 
sides.  The  rushing  streams  were  clear  and  alive  with 
fish,  the  fields  were  well  watered  and  fertile,  the  corn 
waved  softly  in  the  sunlight. 

Instead  of  the  refreshing  green  of  nature,  a  black  pall 
now  hangs  over  the  picture.  The  hills  have  been  robbed 
of  their  forests  and  stand  bare,  rough  and  grim.  The 
mountain  brooks,  no  longer  restrained  by  the  woodland, 
become  torrents  after  every  storm,  rushing  madly  to  the 
rivers  below,  carrying  destruction  instead  of  blessing.  No 
fish  can  live  in  them,  for  the  waters  are  foul  with  poison 
and  clogged  with  grimy  dust.  Here  and  there  loom  the 
“culm  heaps,”  huge  hills,  black  and  irregular,  refuse 
from  coal. 

In  place  of  the  picturesque  Indian  wigwams  there  are 
towering  buildings,  the  “  breakers,”  black  and  forbidding 
as  the  dismal  mounds  of  culm.  There  are  “  patches  ”  of 
miners’  shanties,  black  as  all  the  dreary  scene. 

From  a  hole  in  the  ground  pour  forth  men  and  boys 
with  stooping  shoulders,  and  on  them  also  has  the  shadow 
fallen,  for  their  faces  are  as  grimy  as  the  homes  they 

ii 


12 


COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


seek.  What  made  this  sorry  change  ?  These  valleys  have 
been  made  black  that  our  homes  may  be  warm  and  bright ! 
The  coal  mine  makes  a  dreary  scene,  but  without  the  coal 
it  yields  our  city  homes  would  be  cheerless  indeed.  The 
fires  that  warm  us,  the  lights  that  gladden  us,  are  made 
possible  by  the  darkness  and  toil  of  the  coal  mine. 

IN  THE  COAL  MINE 

Most  of  our  anthracite,  or  hard,  coal  comes  from  the 
valleys  of  eastern  Pennsylvania.  Shall  we  go  down  into 
that  black  hole  and  see  for  ourselves  the  work  of  those 
men  with  blackened  faces  ?  As  we  wait  our  turn  to  enter 
the  “  cage,”  or  rude  elevator,  we  note  the  great  wheel, 
about  fifteen  feet  across,  constantly  whirling,  day  and 
night,  to  send  fresh  air  underground.  It  cannot  send 
enough  to  keep  the  air  sweet  and  wholesome,  but  it 
makes  life  possible.  The  black  hole  is  ten  feet  across, 
and  the  deep  shaft,  lined  with  heavy  timber,  stretches 
down,  down,  down,  into  the  blackness.  The  cage  rapidly 
drops  seven  hundred  feet,  stops  with  a  jerk,  and  we  get 
out  at  the  center  of  fifty  miles  of  tunnels;  north,  east, 
south  and  west,  stretch  passageways,  each  three  miles 
long,  dimly  lighted  with  tiny  electric  bulbs.  Through 
each  avenue,  or  “  intake,”  extends  a  track  with  tiny  cars, 
drawn  by  mules.  Cross  streets  intersect  the  main  “  in¬ 
take  ”  every  hundred  feet,  and  opening  from  the  cross 
streets  are  “  rooms  ”  about  ten  by  twenty  feet. 

Usually  there  are  two  miners  working  in  each  room. 
Sometimes,  not  able  to  stand  upright,  they  work  on  their 
knees,  their  only  light  coming  from  the  tiny  lamps  in 
their  caps.  They  begin  the  day  by  carefully  looking  over 
the  room.  Swinging  their  picks  they  undercut  the  wall 
of  coal,  so  that  it  may  be  scaled  off  in  huge  chunks  by 


HARD  COAL  AND  BREAKER  BOYS  13 


blows  from  above.  Often  they  drill  holes  toward  the 
lower  edge  of  the  coal  vein,  fill  them  with  explosives, 
light  fuses  and  then  retreat  to  the  gangway  for  safety 
until  after  the  explosion.  When  the  room  has  been 
cleared  of  smoke  and  poisonous  gases  by  the  exhaust  fans 
on  the  surface,  they  return.  If  it  has  been  a  good  “  shot,” 
two  or  three  tons  of  coal  have  been  loosened,  which  will 
be  loaded  on  cars  and  carried  to  the  mouth  of  the  shaft. 
In  few  occupations  is  there  such  terrible  risk,  such  hor¬ 
rible  loss  of  life.  A  blast  may  break  a  thin  wall  that 
holds  back  an  imprisoned  flood,  and  without  a  moment’s 
warning  the  angry  torrent  may  drown  the  helpless  men. 
A  “  cave-in  ”  from  above  may  engulf  them.  Poisonous 
gases  may  suffocate,  and  explosions  rend  them.  Within 
ten  years  30,000  miners  have  been  killed  in  our  country. 

In  these  dark  scenes  of  peril  there  often  flashes  the 
light  of  heroic  deeds.  One  night  as  a  number  of  men 
were  at  work  in  one  of  these  mines  a  huge  slab  of  coal 
suddenly  leaped  from  its  place,  with  a  terrific  roar,  and 
water  engulfed  the  room.  The  force  of  the  flood  put 
out  the  lights  and  terror  raged  in  utter  darkness.  The 
crest  of  the  incoming  wave  struck  the  cars  on  the  track 
and  shot  them  along  the  passageway;  the  workmen 
jumped  for  the  cars,  and  clinging  to  them  desperately, 
were  carried  with  the  flood  to  the  shaft,  up  which  they 
escaped.  With  anxious  eyes  they  took  instant  count  of 
their  number — two  men  were  missing ! 

When  the  break  took  place,  a  laborer,  called  “  Old 
Joe,”  had  been  working  in  the  farthest  part  of  the  room. 
The  old  man  was  neither  quick  nor  strong, — he  could 
not  flee  with  lightning  haste,  he  could  not  wrestle  with 
such  a  death, — must  he  perish  alone  while  younger  men 
escaped?  The  end  seemed  very  near,  but  a  brave  heart 
was  nearer.  Young  John  Slovak  leaped  to  Old  Joe’s 


14  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 

side  in  the  darkness,  and  fighting  to  keep  their  heads 
above  the  rising  water  he  dragged  and  carried  him  to  a 
passageway  which  led  upward  to  temporary  safety.  The 
water  soon  shut  them  in  and  there  they  were  hidden  for 
over  two  days  and  nights.  The  miners  who  had  escaped 
gave  the  alarm  and  pumps  and  siphons  were  put  to  work 
to  lower  the  water.  At  the  end  of  fifty-six  hours  a 
rescue  party  was  able  to  enter  the  mine.  With  anxious 
hearts  they  groped  their  way,  fearful  lest  they  were  too 
late.  But  when  their  lights  penetrated  the  room,  weak 
voices  answered  their  call.  The  men  still  lived!  John 
had  saved  Old  Joe. 

john  Slovak’s  people 

There  are  thousands  and  thousands  of  them.  Where 
do  they  come  from  and  why  do  they  take  such  terrible 
risks  to  get  coal?  In  the  heart  of  Hungary,  among  the 
plains  of  the  Danube,  the  masterful  Magyars  live,  sur¬ 
rounded  on  all  sides  by  the  Slavs.  The  Slavic  family 
numbers  more  than  twenty  millions  in  eastern  and  south¬ 
ern  Europe.  They  are  sturdy  people,  ready  for  the 
hardest  tasks.  In  their  homeland  they  could  earn  only 
fifty  cents  by  a  long  day  of  hard  labor;  their  food  was 
of  the  plainest  and  meat  was  a  luxury.  The  pay  of  a 
miner  in  America — about  two  dollars  a  day — is  a  prize 
they  cannot  resist.  They  endure  hardships  without  com¬ 
plaint.  Although  rough  in  their  ways,  given  to  fighting 
and  drinking,  observing  Sunday  as  a  holiday,  yet  they 
have  in  them  the  making  of  splendid  Americans,  if  we 
will  only  be  good  neighbors  and  teach  them.  The  Slavs 
live  on  a  pittance  in  order  to  save  money  to  send  for 
wives  and  children.  Many  of  them  buy  homes  and  try 
to  live  as  Americans. 


HARD  COAL  AND  BREAKER  BOYS  15 


THE  BREAKER  BOYS 

But  what  are  the  Slavic  boys  doing  while  the  men  are 
working  in  the  mines  ?  Alas,  many  of  the  boys  are  father¬ 
less,  for  the  perils  of  the  mine  have  claimed  their  toll. 
A  little  company  of  twenty-five  boys  in  one  mining  town, 
all  under  fourteen  years  of  age,  were  all  fatherless,  and 
all  were  “  breaker  boys  ”  and  supported  their  families. 

After  the  coal  comes  from  the  mines  it  must  be  crushed 
and  passed  over  screens  to  grade  it  in  size.  It  is  mixed 
with  slate  and  refuse,  and  it  is  the  task  of  the  “  breaker 
boys  ”  to  pick  out  this  slate  and  refuse  from  the  coal 
as  it  rushes  down  the  towering  breakers,  through  the 
chutes  over  which  they  crouch.  Their  work  is  exceed¬ 
ingly  hard  and  dangerous,  and  severe  accidents  are 
common.  Listen  to  the  words  of  a  man  who  has  tried  it : 

“  I  once  stood  in  a  breaker  a  half-hour  and  tried  to  do 
the  work  a  twelve-year-old  boy  was  doing  day  after  day, 
ten  hours  at  a  stretch,  for  sixty  cents  a  day.  Outside, 
the  sun  shone  brightly ;  within  there  were  blackness  and 
clouds  of  deadly  dust.  The  harsh,  grinding  roar  of  the 
machinery  and  the  ceaseless  rushing  of  coal  through  the 
chutes  filled  the  ears.  I  tried  to  pick  out  the  pieces  of 
slate  from  the  hurrying  stream  of  coal,  often  missing 
them ;  my  hands  were  bruised  and  cut  in  a  few  minutes ; 
I  was  covered  with  coal  dust  from  head  to  foot,  and  for 
many  hours  afterward  my  throat  was  filled  with  particles 
I  had  swallowed.  I  could  not  do  that  work  and  live,  yet 
there  were  boys  of  ten  and  twelve  doing  it  for  fifty  or 
sixty  cents  a  day/’ 

These  boys  should  be  in  school,  learning  to  become  in¬ 
telligent  Americans,  they  should  play  outdoors  to  gain 


1 6  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


strong  bodies,  they  should  have  friends  to  help  them 
become  good  men. 

According  to  the  laws  of  Pennsylvania,  boys  of  four¬ 
teen  may  be  employed  in  breakers,  and  of  sixteen  in 
the  mines.  Philanthropists  are  urging  laws  forbidding 
all  mine  labor  under  the  age  of  sixteen.  But  even  the 
existing  laws  are  not  enforced.  In  1909  there  were 
1,197  boys  under  sixteen  years  of  age  employed  in  the 
coal  mines  of  Pennsylvania. 

Warm-hearted  men  and  women  are  helping  these  boys. 
In  one  city  a  “  Boys’  Industrial  Association  ”  has  done 
much  for  the  breaker  boys  and  right  proud  are  they  of 
their  “  B.  I.  A.,”  as  one  of  their  songs  testifies : 

i 

“  We’re  coming,  City  Fathers,  we  are  now  six  hundred 
strong, 

The  time  is  swiftly  passing  and  it  won’t  be  very  long 
Till  we  shall  be  the  voters  and  we’ll  veto  all  the  wrong, 
For  we’re  the  B.  I.  A. 

“  We  believe  in  honest  labor,  we  believe  in  honest  pay, 
We’ll  arbitrate  our  troubles  in  a  fair  and  manly  way. 
We’ll  govern  by  the  Golden  Rule,  when  we  shall  have 
the  say. 

For  we’re  the  B.  I.  A. 

“  So  we’re  coming,  City  Fathers,  we  are  now  six  hundred 
strong, 

We  can’t  yet  make  the  politics  but  we  can  make  a  song, 
And  here  we’ll  sing  a  cheery  one  to  help  the  world 
along, 

For  we’re  the  B.  I.  A.” 

Don’t  you  think  they  will  make  good  Americans  if  their 
songs  have  that  ring?  Sing  it  yourself  to  the  tune  of 


HARD  COAL  AND  BREAKER  BOYS  17 

“  The  Battle  Hymn  of  the  Republic  ”  and  I  think  you  will 
be  willing  to  welcome  as  comrades  the  boys  who  sing  it, 
though  they  come  to  us  from  other  lands.  For  twenty 
years  the  B.  I.  A.  has  had  clubs  and  classes  and  fun  for 
its  members.  One  of  their  number  died  for  his  country 
and  ours  in  the  Spanish  war,  one  became  a  minister, 
one  a  rabbi,  several  have  won  college  honors,  and  many, 
many  more  have  become  good  workmen,  “  doing  a  day’s 
work  without  graft  ”  as  one  of  them  expressed  it. 


NEIGHBORLY  HELPERS 

The  sisters  of  the  “  breaker  boys  ”  need  our  friend¬ 
ship  too.  Many  of  them  are  employed  in  silk  mills, 
walking  several  miles  to  reach  the  mill  before  the  seven- 
o’clock  whistle  blows,  working  all  day  long  in  the  whir 
and  dust  of  the  machinery,  and  returning  at  night  to 
cheerless  homes. 

Wherever  a  missionary  comes  bringing  a  heart  warm 
with  love  to  God  and  man,  life  grows  brighter.  Such 
men  and  women  help  these  foreign  comrades  in  many 
ways.  They  go  into  the  homes  as  trained  nurses  and 
friends  and  teach  the  mothers  how  to  care  for  their  little 
ones  and  how  to  cook  American  food.  They  gather  the  tots 
into  kindergartens  where  they  bask  in  love  and  sunshine. 
They  have  clubs  where  the  boys  learn  basketry  and  the 
girls  learn  sewing  and  home-making,  to  work  and  play 
and  think,  and  to  do  all  happy,  clubable  things.  They 
gather  the  young  people  into  classes,  where  they  learn 
English,  how  to  get  the  vote  and  how  to  use  it  wisely. 
They  show  the  young  folks  how  to  have  good  times 
that  are  safe  and  happy,  away  from  the  saloons  that 
make  for  trouble.  And  through  all  this  service  of  love, 


18  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


they  lead  to  an  acquaintance  with  the  Man  Christ  Jesus, 
the  Friend  whose  love  inspires  every  neighborly  deed. 

It  seems  a  far  cry  from  the  grime  of  the  breaker  and 
the  rough  Slavic  home  to  the  purity  of  King  Arthur 
and  Sir  Galahad,  yet  among  the  breaker  boys  is  more 
than  one  “  Table  Round  ”  where  the  boys  thus  pledge 
themselves,  “  We  be  joined  heart  and  hand  to  achieve 
Christian  knightliness ;  what  harmeth  body,  defileth 
tongue,  or  doeth  ill  to  mind  cometh  not  to  our  conclave.” 

It  is  a  strange  setting  for  chivalry,  yet  where  else  have 
so  many  boys,  while  yet  children,  assumed  the  knightly 
support  of  the  weak, — the  mother  and  little  ones  of  the 
home, — and  among  what  class  of  boys  is  there  a  more 
fearless  facing  of  danger? 


II 


SOFT  COAL  AND  COKE  OVENS 

Hardly-entreated  Brother !  For  us  was  thy  back  so  bent,  for 
us  were  thy  straight  limbs  and  fingers  so  deformed;  thou  wert 
our  conscript  on  whom  the  lot  fell,  and  fighting  our  battles  wert 
so  marred. — Carlyle. 

HOW  could  we  travel  over  sea  and  land  without 
steel  steamers,  steel  rails,  steel  cars,  steel  auto¬ 
mobiles  ?  How  could  we  get  our  food  from  the 
soil  without  steel  harvesters,  or  our  clothing  without  steel 
machinery  in  the  mills  ?  Could  our  homes  be  built  with¬ 
out  steel  tools,  our  sewing  be  done  without  steel  needles  ? 
Could  our  skyscraper  office  buildings  be  erected  without 
steel  frames,  or  business  be  transacted  in  them  without 
typewriters?  Travel,  food,  clothing,  homes,  business — 
steel,  steel,  steel!  Where  does  it  all  come  from?  How 
do  we  get  this  steel  on  which  so  much  depends  ? 

The  iron  ore  is  dug  from  the  ground,  the  steel  is  made 
from  the  iron  by  means  of  overpowering  heat.  The  heat 
is  produced  by  burning  soft,  or  bituminous,  coal,  together 
with  the  coke  that  is  made  from  it.  Most  of  this  coal  is 
mined  in  western  Pennsylvania  and  West  Virginia. 

Who  mine  the  bituminous  coal,  who  tend  the  coke 
ovens  and  the  terrible  fires  that  change  the  iron  to  steel? 
These  tasks  are  so  hazardous  that  the  men  crippled  and 
killed  every  year  number  hundreds  and  thousands.  Who 
perform  these  perilous  tasks  on  which  our  comforts  de¬ 
pend?  Again  we  must  look  at  the  map  of  Europe  and 
find  those  powerful  Slavs  with  the  strong  backs,  the 

19 


20 


COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


strong  arms,  the  grim  indifference  to  danger.  The  Mag¬ 
yars  are  also  employed  in  this  industry.  They  are  of 
a  different  race,  dominating  their  neighbors  and  ruling 
Hungary.  They  insist  that  their  Slovak  subjects  shall 
use  the  Magyar  tongue  in  Parliament,  in  court,  in  school. 
The  Slovaks  resent  this  and  bitter  feeling  and  feuds 
result. 

We  depend  largely  on  foreigners  for  the  very  neces¬ 
saries  of  life,  and  the  heads  of  our  great  industries 
become  seriously  alarmed  when  they  are  attracted  else¬ 
where.  In  May,  1912,  a  labor  famine  was  threatened  in 
the  Pittsburgh  district,  as  over  100,000  laborers  had  left 
in  four  years.  Some  had  gone  to  South  America,  where 
better  opportunities  offered.  Some  had  returned'  home, 
where  wages  have  improved  and  the  cost  of  living  is 
always  lower. 

HOW  ARE  WE  TREATING  THESE  COMRADES? 

We  must  have  this  exhausting  and  terrible  work  done 
for  us, — how  are  we  treating  the  workers?  Are  we 
doing  everything  possible  to  safeguard  their  lives  in  peril? 
Are  we  teaching  these  strong,  intelligent  men  how  to 
become  good  citizens?  Do  we  help  them  to  have  com¬ 
fort  in  their  homes  after  their  bitter  toil?  Are  the 
children  having  a  happy  American  time  ?  Are  we  show¬ 
ing  them  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ? 

We  have  been  so  careless  in  the  mines  that  many 
thousands  of  children  have  been  orphaned.  In  one  dis¬ 
aster  alone,  356  men  were  killed.  And  little  children 
share  the  toil  and  peril.  In  the  bituminous  mines  of 
West  Virginia  little  boys  of  nine  or  ten  are  frequently 
employed.  One  little  fellow  of  ten  was  employed  as 
“  trap  boy.”  He  had  to  sit  alone  in  the  dark  mine  pas- 


SOFT  COAL  AND  COKE  OVENS 


21 


sage,  hour  after  hour,  with  no  soul  near.  He  could  see 
no  creature,  except  the  mules  as  they  passed  through 
the  door  with  their  loads,  or  a  rat  or  two,  trying  to 
share  his  meal.  He  must  stand  in  water  or  mud  covering 
his  ankles,  chilled  to  the  marrow  by  the  cold  draughts 
that  rushed  in  as  he  opened  the  trap  door  for  the  mules 
to  pass  through.  Thus  he  worked  for  fourteen  hours 
a  day,  waiting,  opening,  shutting,  then  waiting  again, — 
for  sixty  cents  a  day.  It  was  often  dark  when  he  reached 
the  surface  and  he  sometimes  fell  to  the  earth,  exhausted, 
and  had  to  be  carried  to  a  shack  to  be  revived  before  he 
could  walk  home ! 

In  West  Virginia  there  is  no  restriction  as  to  the  em¬ 
ployment  of  children  in  dangerous  occupations,  except 
that  no  boy  under  fourteen  and  no  girl  of  any  age,  may 
be  employed  in  a  coal  mine.  But  even  this  law  is  not 
enforced.  One  terrible  disaster  was  caused,  it  is  said, 
by  the  employment  of  children. 

TWO  HUNDRED  BONFIRES 

You  like  to  watch  a  bonfire  at  night.  Have  you  ever 
seen  ten,  twenty,  or  fifty  burning  at  once?  Imagine  the 
weird  sight  when  two  hundred  hive-shaped  coke  ovens 
in  which  coke  is  made  are  seen  burning,  night  after  night, 
and  on  the  horizon  the  flame  and  smoke  from  a  dozen 
other  coke  plants.  The  soft  coal  that  is  burned  in  these 
ovens  makes  smoke  full  of  soot  that  clings  to  every  sur¬ 
face.  How  would  you  like  to  have  your  home  close  to 
those  smoking  ovens,  and  that  home  two  or  three  rooms 
in  one  of  a  long  row  of  square,  ugly  houses  that  were 
red  before  the  soot  made  all  things  black? 

What  have  we  done  to  teach  these  toilers  how  to  be¬ 
come  American  citizens  ?  There  is  no  provision  for 


22  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 

teaching  grown  people  in  the  public  schools ;  we  do  not 
help  them  there.  When  politicians  want  their  votes  they 
buy  them.  A  bad  beginning,  isn’t  it,  for  making  a  good 
citizen  out  of  an  indispensable  laborer  ? 

“  But  the  boys  and  girls,”  you  say,  “  at  least  they  are 
learning  to  become  good  Americans  in  our  fine  public 
schools,  which  weld  all  peoples  into  one.  But  that 
privilege  is  not  for  many  of  them,  as  they  are  massed 
by  hundreds  into  church,  or  parochial  schools,  conducted 
by  foreign  priests,  Greek  or  Roman  Catholic.  In  these 
they  hear  little  English,  and  receive  few  American  ideas. 
Their  homes  are  without  back  yards,  or  gardens,  and  as 
for  water,  it  all  has  to  be  carried  from  a  hydrant,  one 
hydrant  for  every  four  houses.  Who  wouldn’t  slight  his 
bathing  on  a  freezing  winter  day?  It  isn’t  easy  for 
anybody  to  keep  clean  where  soft  coal  is  burned, — and 
only  think  of  the  condition  of  miners  and  coke  burners, 
for,  as  has  been  said,  “  Mining  is  not  a  tidy  job.”  Surely 
we  have  not  dealt  fairly  with  the  toilers  with  the  brawny 
backs, — the  men  who  dig  the  coal  that  makes  the  coke 
that  makes  the  steel  upon  which  depend  our  food,  our 
clothes,  our  tools,  our  buildings,  our  means  of  travel  by 
land  or  sea. 

And  the  babies,  how  have  they  fared  in  the  square,  red- 
black  houses  ?  On  a  hillside  near  a  coking  town  there  is 
a  cemetery  where,  side  by  side,  lie  the  graves  of  two 
hundred  babies,  tiny  soldiers  who  have  fallen  in  the  battle 
for  life.  We  might  see  there  a  mother  stooping  to  lay 
wild  flowers  on  a  little  grave.  These  mothers  love  their 
children,  but  they  do  not  yet  know  how  to  care  for  them 
in  crowded  America,  where  life  is  so  different  from 
what  it  was  in  their  village  homes  across  the  sea.  They 
need  neighborly  missionaries,  such  as  we  found  in  the 
anthracite  region,  who  will  show  them  how  to  feed  their 


Uncle  Sam’s  Canary  Birds 
How  Uncle  Sam  Cares  for  the  Canary  Birds 


SOFT  COAL  AND  COKE  OVENS 


23 


children  and  how  to  make  happy  homes.  And  better 
things  are  at  hand ;  the  day  of  unselfish  service  is  dawn¬ 
ing  for  these  dark  places. 

UNCLE  SAM’s  CANARY  BIRD 

Uncle  Sam  has  become  appalled  at  the  loss  of  life  in 
mining.  He  says,  “  These  miners  are  men,  if  they  are 
foreigners,  and  we  must  safeguard  them !  ”  And  so  in 
1910  our  government  established  the  Bureau  of  Mines. 
And  what  do  you  suppose  is  most  useful  as  a  life-saver  ? 
The  canary  bird ! 

“  Do  you  think  twelve  strong  men  need  a  canary  bird 
for  protection?  ”  asked  a  leader  of  a  rescue  gang.  Very 
often  they  do.  After  every  mine  explosion  there  is  likely 
to  be  poisonous  gas  diffused  in  the  air.  It  has  no  odor. 
“  All  I  knew  was  my  knees  gave  out  and  I  fell,”  said 
one  miner  who  was  saved  by  his  companions.  The  canary 
bird  is  affected  much  sooner  than  a  man,  and  when  he 
becomes  restless,  or  drops  from  his  perch,  it  is  time  to 
seek  fresh  air. 

Mr.  John  A.  Mosby,  Jr.,  a  good  friend  of  the  birds  as 
well  as  of  the  children,  says :  “  The  various  miners’ 
squads  carry  the  birds  in  cages  as  seen  in  photograph  No. 
1,  and,  when  in  dangerous  sections  of  the  mine,  keep  a 
wary  eye  upon  them. 

“Though  the  little  bird  is  thus  subjected  to  insensi¬ 
bility,  it  must  not  be  thought  that  any  cruelty  whatso¬ 
ever  is  practiced  upon  it.  The  effect  of  the  gas,  beyond 
rendering  it  insensible,  is,  as  far  as  can  be  found  from 
experiment  upon  men,  not  only  painless  but  leaves  no  ill 
effects  if  the  insensible  one  is  restored  within  a  short  time. 

“  Accordingly,  the  miners  are  provided  with  an  air¬ 
tight  oxygen  cage,  as  shown  in  the  lower  photograph. 
In  the  handle,  as  seen  grasped  by  the  miner  on  the  left- 


24 


COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


hand  in  the  picture,  is  a  tank  of  compressed  oxygen.  As 
soon  as  the  little  bird  falls  insensible  in  his  own  cage,  he 
is  at  once  transferred  to  this  oxygen  cage  and  the  life- 
giving  gas  turned  in  from  the  tank  in  the  handle  by  means 
of  a  valve.  It  is  said  that  the  miners,  when  warned  by 
the  little  bird  that  they  have  but  five  minutes  before 
they  themselves  will  fall  insensible,  never  fail  to  stop 
and  carefully  put  their  feathered  guardian  into  his  oxygen 
cage,  grateful  for  the  warning,  without  which  their  own 
lives  would  be  lost.” 

In  less  than  two  years  the  Bureau  has  put  seven  rescue 
cars  into  the  principal  coal  regions  of  the  country,  and 
has  opened  six  rescue  stations.  It  has  the  names  of 
7,900  miners  who  have  taken  the  first  aid  and  mine 
rescue  training,  and  has  persuaded  several  coal  com¬ 
panies  to  adopt  rescue  methods.  A  great  mine  safety 
demonstration  was  held  at  the  Pittsburgh  station,  at¬ 
tended  by  the  President  of  the  United  States,  and  thou¬ 
sands  of  operators,  foremen  and  owners  in  September, 
1911.  Thirty  thousand  miners  were  there  to  represent 
the  thirty  thousand  killed  in  the  last  ten  years.  Who 
could  forget  such  an  object  lesson? 

The  companies  which  own  these  industries  are  also 
waking  up.  “  These  toilers  are  human  beings,”  they  say ; 
“  we  must  make  life  pleasanter  for  them.”  And  so  the 
old,  red-black  company  houses  are  giving  place  with  one 
company,  at  least,  to  smaller  houses,  with  fences  and 
gardens.  The  company  plows  and  fertilizes  the  gardens 
and  offers  prizes  for  the  best.  How  eagerly  the  for¬ 
eigners  work  at  their  bits  of  ground !  One  community 
has  clean  streets  and  even  a  playground  and  a  swimming 
pool. 

And  the  people  of  our  Protestant  churches  are  begin¬ 
ning  to  think  of  these  comrades.  They  are  opening 


SOFT  COAL  AND  COKE  OVENS  25 

Sunday-schools  and  training  the  young  people  for  Chris¬ 
tian  work. 

COMRADES,  INDEED 

\ 

One  forward  step  in  neighborliness  is  most  interesting. 
We  used  to  wait  to  preach  to  foreigners  until  they  knew 
our  language,  and  we  thought  little  of  preparation  for 
that  service.  But  now  we  find  that  to  be  really  helpful 
to  a  Slav,  or  an  Italian,  or  a  Magyar,  we  must  know 
him  in  his  old  home,  and  be  acquainted  with  his  life  and 
try  to  think  his  thoughts.  And  so  in  1909,  a  company 
of  young  college  men  who  expected  to  help  the  foreigners 
in  this  country,  through  the  Young  Men’s  Christian  As¬ 
sociation,  were  taken  abroad  for  a  year  by  Professor 
Steiner,  that  interesting  immigrant  and  friend  of  immi¬ 
grants,  and  made  to  know  the  home  life  of  the  men  they 
were  to  help.  The  principal  of  a  missionary-training 
school  for  girls  in  the  coke  district  spent  three  months  in 
Bohemia,  that  she  might  better  be  prepared  to  teach 
Slavonic  girls  how  to  serve  their  people.  In  1912  a 
Home  Mission  board  sent  two  young  men  to  prepare  to 
work  among  Bohemians  and  Slovaks  in  America  by 
spending  a  year  and  a  half  in  their  home  lands.  A  third 
has  gone  to  Italy  and  now  others  are  following  to  live 
among  the  Magyars  and  Croatians.  There  they  are  to 
stay  in  the  peasant  villages,  to  live  their  life,  to  get  into 
the  closest,  simplest  touch  with  them,  learning  their  lan¬ 
guage  and  their  ways,  that  when  those  comrades  seek 
this  land  of  ours,  they  may  be  met  with  an  understanding 
heart.  These  young  men  were  honor  students  and  en¬ 
titled  to  a  year’s  study  in  the  best  universities  of  Europe, 
but  they  chose  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  Him  “  who 
though  He  was  rich,  yet  for  our  sakes  He  became  poor.” 
And  so  the  light  leads  on. 


Ill 


IN  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 

You  may  make  bricks,  cut  down  trees,  or  hammer  iron  without 
love,  but  you  cannot  deal  with  men  without  it. — Tolstoi. 

THE  crying  need  of  our  land  to-day  is  for  more 
farmers,  for  better  farming.  Our  big  country 
has  millions  of  people  that  must  be  fed.  If  they 
all  crowd  into  cities,  who  will  grow  the  wheat,  the  corn, 
the  apples  and  potatoes?  And  so  Uncle  Sam  has  put 
his  mind  to  the  subject  and  the  Department  of  Agriculture 
at  Washington,  and  various  state  colleges  and  experiment 
stations  are  giving  the  finest  brains  of  the  country  to  help 
the  farmers.  Many  students,  instead  of  worrying  over 
Greek  and  Latin  “  roots,”  are  digging  into  the  roots  of 
corn  and  beans,  preparing  to  teach  how  to  make  things 
grow.  Hundreds  of  American  boys  and  girls  are  learning 
how  to  raise  a  hundred  or  more  bushels  of  corn  where 
their  fathers  could  get  but  twenty-five.  It  is  more  fun 
than  algebra  and  will  feed  more  folks. 

Of  the  millions  of  foreigners  who  seek  a  home  under 
our  flag,  the  great  majority  huddle  in  our  cities,  in  quar¬ 
ters  already  crowded  to  the  danger  point.  Wise  men  and 
women  are  trying  to  guide  them  to  the  fields,  and  those 
who  seek  the  country  of  their  own  choice  are  the  most 
warmly  welcomed  of  all  who  come  to  our  shores.  Of 
these  the  Bohemians  form  a  large  proportion.  Holland¬ 
ers,  Swedes,  Finns,  Germans,  Norwegians  and  Danes 
are  also  farmers. 


26 


IN  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


27 


WHO  ARE  THE  BOHEMIANS? 

On  the  map  of  Europe  you  will  find  the  northwestern 
part  of  Austria  called  “  Bohemia.”  It  is  now  over  one 
hundred  and  seventy-five  years  since  the  little  kingdom 
became  subject  to  Austria.  The  people  are  strong  to 
work,  strong  to  fight,  strong  to  endure.  They  have  good 
minds  to  think  out  their  problems,  they  love  freedom, 
they  love  their  families.  And  the  hero  of  this  country 
is  a  man  who  joyfully  gave  his  life  as  a  martyr  for  the 
church  of  Jesus  Christ.  That  was  almost  five  hundred 
years  ago.  The  sentence  of  death  was  passed  upon  John 
Huss,  and  after  the  fagots  were  piled  about  him  he  was 
asked  to  recant,  but  his  last  words  were, — “  In  the  truth 
of  that  gospel  which  hitherto  I  have  written,  taught  and 
preached,  I  now  joyfully  die !  ” 

It  was  about  the  year  1850  that  the  first  Bohemians 
entered  this  country,  and  they  came  because  their  free¬ 
dom-loving  hearts  could  not  endure  the  tyranny  to  which 
they  were  subjected.  Many  of  them  were  men  of  culture 
and  refinement,  who  were  willing  to  live  humbly  if  only 
they  might  be  in  a  land  of  freedom.  One  of  these  went 
to  Texas  where  he  was  found  by  a  former  neighbor. 
“  Why,  Valentine !  ”  his  friend  exclaimed,  “  at  home  your 
pigs  were  housed  better  than  you  are  here !  ”  “  That  is 
true,”  was  the  sturdy  reply,  “  but  I  would  rather  live  in 
a  log  house  here  than  in  a  palace  under  the  Austrian 
government !  ”  His  son  became  an  editor,  judge  and 
member  of  the  school  committee. 

These  early  settlers  went  also  to  Wisconsin,  and  as 
land  advanced  in  value  they  moved  on  to  Minnesota,  to 
Iowa,  to  Kansas  and  Nebraska,  to  South  Dakota.  They' 
are  also  now  going  to  California,  to  Washington  and 
Oregon. 


28  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


They  have  opened  up  our  wilderness.  They  have 
beautiful  farms  and  orchards  where  fifty  years  ago  there 
was  a  heavy  timbered  forest.  Americans  had  given  it 
up,  saying  it  could  not  be  cleared  in  a  hundred  years. 
Another  community,  forty  years  ago,  took  possession  of 
land  that  was  almost  useless,  low  prairie,  wet  and  cold. 
They  have  drained  it  with  thousands  of  feet  of  tiling 
underground  and  now  they  cultivate  their  fertile  farms. 
Shall  we  let  one  of  these  early  pioneers  tell  her  own 
story  of  thrilling  experience  as  it  was  told  in  The  Chau - 
tauquanf 


LIVING  IN  A  DUGOUT 

“  I  was  a  little  girl  when  we  came  to  America.  My 
father  was  a  poor  man,  but  a  neighbor  who  wished  to 
come  to  America  offered  to  pay  the  traveling  expenses 
of  our  family  if  my  father  would  act  as  interpreter,  as 
he  could  speak  German.  We  traveled  as  far  as  a  Bo¬ 
hemian  settlement  in  Wisconsin  and  there  our  neighbor 
decided  that  he  could  shift  for  himself,  and  left  us.  We 
sat  there  on  the  dock  by  the  lake-side,  my  father,  my 
mother,  my  little  brother  and  myself,  without  one  cent 
among  us.  Well,  we  got  on  some  way. — After  two 
years  a  party  of  us  started  for  Nebraska;  we  had  a  yoke 
of  oxen  and  a  good  little  Indian  pony.  The  women 
and  children  slept  in  the  wagon  and  the  men  under  it. 
Going  uphill  father  would  fasten  the  pony  ahead  of  the 
oxen  to  help  them  up. 

“  In  those  days  men  either  built  their  houses  of  sods 
piled  up  high  on  the  prairie,  or  else  made  dugouts  on 
the  side  of  a  river.  We  made  quite  a  nice  dugout.  It 
was  tall  enough  to  stand  up  straight  in,  and  the  earth 
sides  were  whitewashed,  but  for  some  time  we  had  no 
door,  having  nothing  to  make  one  of.  In  those  days 


IN  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


29 


when  you  were  driving  across  the  prairie  in  the  dark  you 
had  to  be  careful  not  to  break  through  into  people’s 
dugouts. 

“  One  winter,  I  think  it  was  that  first  year,  father  went 
to  Beatrice,  about  twenty  miles  away,  with  the  oxen.  We 
had  one  big  fall  of  snow  before  he  started,  but  soon  after 
another  big  storm  came  and  he  was  kept  away  a  week. 
Mother  was  almost  wild  when  he  did  not  come  back. 
She  went  to  a  neighbor  to  get  him  to  go  look  for  father, 
but  then  father  got  back.  He  brought  nothing  with  him, 
but  he  was  glad  to  get  back  at  all.  The  oxen  had  refused 
to  face  the  storm  (they  never  will)  and  had  turned 
around  and  broken  everything.  He  left  the  things  in 
care  of  a  man  twelve  miles  off.  Mother  decided  to  go 
back  with  him  to  fetch  what  was  left,  leaving  me  home 
alone.  Another  storm  came  up  and  they  could  not  get 
back  for  four  days.  I  was  only  nine  years  old.  After 
a  time  I  had  eaten  all  the  bread  and  burned  all  the  wood. 
I  had  sense  enough  to  make  my  way  to  the  river  and 
follow  up  on  the  ice  to  a  neighbor’s.  A  woman  came 
back  with  me  and  chopped  wood  for  me.  Then  father 
and  mother  got  home.  They  had  expected  to  return  right 
away,  but  it  had  been  impossible. 

“  In  the  spring,  when  all  that  snow  came  off  at  once 
and  rain  came  besides,  it  made  a  flood.  The  land  was 
under  water  for  miles.  Everybody  had  to  move  out,  up 
on  a  hill.  The  mills  could  not  grind  and  there  was  not 
enough  to  eat. 

“  In  those  days  Indians  used  often  to  come  through ; 
they  were  Omahas  and  Pawnees  and  they  used  to  visit 
one  another  by  turns.  Sometimes  there  would  be  five 
hundred  in  a  party.  They  went  in  single  file,  five  or  ten 
paces  apart,  at  a  sort  of  little  trot.  It  was  the  govern¬ 
ment’s  order  that  to  avoid  trouble  they  were  not  to  go 


30  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


in  a  bunch.  They  would  gather,  however,  to  camp. 
They  would  be  two  or  three  days  going  through.  Some 
traveled  on  foot,  but  the  squaws  were  mostly  on  ponies, 
with  crossed  sticks  trailing  behind,  with  the  children  and 
goods  loaded  in  the  middle. 

“  Often  when  you  would  least  expect  it,  you  would 
suddenly  find  a  big  Indian  standing  beside  you.  Shivers 
went  right  through  a  person.  They  had  a  regular  snaky 
walk,  they  would  come  up  and  ask  for  a  little  flour,  or 
want  to  swap  something,  but  they  never  bothered.  They 
were  all  right  if  they  were  treated  right. 

“  I  grew  up  a  very  strong  girl.  Once  I  was  plowing 
with  a  girl,  but  she  was  not  used  to  oxen  and  said  ‘  Gee  ’ 
when  she  should  have  said  ‘  Haw/  and  they  broke  and 
ran.  Two  separate  times  I  was  bitten  by  rattlesnakes; 
there  was  no  doctor  and  we  did  what  we  could.  It  was 
about  a  week  before  I  could  put  my  foot  to  the  ground. 
After  my  marriage  I  had  leisure  and  read  much  in  Eng¬ 
lish  and  Bohemian.” 


UP-TO-DATE  FARMERS 

In  this  way  have  the  sturdy  Bohemians  opened  up  our 
wildernesses.  “  It  was  the  hard  work  of  strong  men, 
helpful  women  and  obedient  children/’  says  a  Bohemian 
pastor,  “  that  accomplished  such  results.”  An  American 
agent  of  a  Bohemian  farming  paper  says  that  the  Bo¬ 
hemians  farm  better  than  the  Americans,  and  invest  in 
the  best  machinery;  that  in  one-half  of  Butler  County, 
Nebraska,  there  are  seventeen  big  threshing  outfits  owned 
by  Bohemians,  and  that  there  is  nothing  parallel  to  this 
in  all  the  United  States.  The  Bohemian  farmers  are 
teachers  of  the  farmers  of  other  nationalities.  They  are 
trusted  as  honest  men  by  business  men  of  nearby  towns. 


IN  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


3i 


In  Bohemia  only  two  per  cent,  of  the  people  are 
Protestants,  the  others  are  Roman  Catholics.  In  our 
northwest  about  this  proportion  holds  true,  but  in  Texas 
about  twenty  per  cent,  are  Protestants.  The  Protestants 
have  clung  to  their  religion  in  a  remarkable  way,  when 
we  consider  how  they  have  been  scattered  on  our  frontier 
with  no  pastor  to  feed  them — “  sheep  without  a  shep¬ 
herd.”  They  kept  up  family  prayers,  they  met  at  one 
another’s  houses,  they  had  their  Bibles  and  hymnals. 
About  thirty  years  ago  there  were  several  dry  years,  a 
most  trying  season  for  Dakota  farmers.  There  was  not 
a  drop  of  rain  for  four  or  five  months,  and  then  very 
little.  Most  of  the  settlers  went  forth  to  a  new  country, 
but  a  little  company  of  Bohemian  Protestants  remained. 
And  how  did  they  employ  those  trying  months?  They 
said,  “  There  is  little  work  this  year,  there  will  be  no 
harvest,  no  corn  shucking,  no  plowing  for  the  ground  is 
too  dry — we  will  build  a  church !  ”  And  so  they  did. 
Three  years  later  they  built  a  parsonage. 

Many  little  Bohemian  communities  waited  fifteen  years 
before  they  heard  the  gospel  preached  in  their  own  lan¬ 
guage,  and  ten  more  before  they  had  a  pastor.  Now  all 
Bohemian  Protestants  are  leagued  together.  But  how 
they  long  for  more  pastors !  Where  nine  were  called 
for  in  1912,  only  one  could  be  found  to  respond.  In 
every  community  the  Protestant  Christians  lead  in  every 
good  enterprise;  they  work  for  better  schools,  better 
roads,  better  politics, — for  better  people, — each  little 
church  is  a  blessing  to  the  whole  community.  All  the 
family  attends  church,  the  babies  with  their  mothers. 
“  When  they  are  about  nine  months  old,”  writes  a  pastor, 
“  their  voices  are  sometimes  heard,  but  they  soon  learn 
it  is  good  manners  to  keep  quiet  in  church.” 


32  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


A  WELCOME  FROM  WASHINGTON 

Our  government  at  Washington  most  heartily  desires 
that  foreigners  coming  to  America  shall  go  forth  into  the 
country  and  cultivate  the  land.  The  different  states 
eagerly  seek  farm  laborers  to  buy  and  cultivate  their 
farm  lands.  In  November,  1911,  that  Department  of  our 
government  which  cares  for  the  immigrant,  summoned 
to  Washington  men  from  every  state  to  consider  the  ques¬ 
tion.  These  delegates  frankly  agreed  that  all  their  states 
needed  the  help  of  foreigners  to  develop  their  lands,  and 
they  owned  that  they  had  not  done  their  part  in  welcoming 
them  in  a  neighborly  way.  An  official  in  this  Department 
said,  “  It  is  our  duty  to  take  them  by  the  hand  and  show 
them  what  we  have  got,  and  show  them  quick.  To 
every  man  who  comes  here  we  promise — ‘  life,  liberty 
and  the  pursuit  of  happiness/  Do  we  mean  it?”  He 
believes  that  in  every  state  there  should  be  an  office  where 
the  immigrant  may  learn  just  what  opportunities  there  are 
for  him,  what  crops  he  can  raise,  what  the  land  costs,  and 
obtain  other  helpful  information. 

“We  should  have  a  man  ready  to  explain,  who  can 
speak  their  language — I  have  found  in  my  dealings  with 
immigrants  that  the  man  who  can  talk  to  them  in  their 
language  wins  their  confidence.  I  do  not  think  it  is  fair 
to  turn  millions  of  people  into  the  streets  of  our  large 
cities.  We  are  responsible  if  we  permit  the  shark  to 
rob  them.  We  do  want  now  to  reach  out  and  take  these 
resident  aliens  by  the  hand,  let  them  know  they  are  wel¬ 
come,  and  let  them  know  where  they  can  best  do  for 
themselves.”  Isn’t  that  good,  straight,  brotherly  talk? 
So  pleased  were  the  delegates  with  the  opportunity  to 
talk  over  all  sides  of  the  immigrant  and  labor  question 
as  it  affected  Massachusetts,  Minnesota,  Colorado,  Texas 


* 


Some  Comrades  from  Other  Lands 
Group  Slavic  Children,  Anthracite  Region 

Courtesy  Presbyterian  Board  of  Publication  and  Sunday  School  Work 


IN  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


33 

and  every  other  state,  that  they  voted  to  meet  every  year, 
“  The  National  Conference  of  Immigration,  Land  and 
Labor  Officials.”  They  will  do  all  in  their  power  to 
induce  foreigners  to  go  into  farming,  and  they  will  en¬ 
deavor  in  a  brotherly  way  to  protect  all  immigrants  from 
injustice,  and  to  teach  them  how  to  become  good  Amer¬ 
ican  citizens. 

This  conference  marks  a  forward  step  in  our  govern¬ 
ment,  for  hitherto  the  most  it  has  done  has  been  to 
pass  laws  restricting  the  classes  of  immigrants  who  may 
enter  our  country. 

TRAVELING  IN  A  GOSPEL  WAGON 

Through  these  farm  settlements  from  Dakota  to  Texas 
travels  the  Sunday-school  missionary,  the  “  colporteur,” 
or  messenger  of  the  “  Word.”  He  may  travel  in  a  “  Gos¬ 
pel  wagon,”  calling  from  house  to  house,  talking  and 
praying  with  the  people  and  leaving  them  something  in 
their  own  language  to  read  and  think  of.  He  perhaps 
carries  a  stereopticon  with  views  of  the  life  of  Christ 
and  when  these  are  exhibited,  the  people  throng  to  see 
them.  A  picture  is  the  same  in  every  language ! 

Ofter  the  messenger  is  a  man  of  their  own  race,  and 
then  how  welcome  is  the  sound  of  the  mother-tongue ! 
One  such  writes :  “  I  called  at  a  farm ;  the  man  was  out 
at  work  in  the  fields,  only  the  wife  and  children  were 
at  home.  I  read  to  her  from  Luke.  She  called  her 
husband, — ‘  Father,  come  home,  here  is  a  man  who  speaks 
Slavish  and  sells  Bibles, — only  come  see  him !  ’  When  I 
greeted  him  in  his  own  language  he  smiled,  and  when 
I  had  read  to  him  he  said, — ‘  Mother,  I  want  this  book : 
give  the  treasure  for  it;  and  have  you  something  to  eat, 
because  I  think  the  gentleman  is  hungry ;  it  is  late/  ” 


34  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 

One  Bohemian  weekly  religious  paper,  Krestanske  Listy 
(The  Christian  Journal),  circulates  3,000  copies  weekly. 
A  Bohemian  colporteur  writes :  “  Before  I  sell  a  Bible 
I  explain  its  great  value,  and  that  every  Christian  should 
possess  it.  I  pray  to  the  Father  that  He  will  give  me 
strength  that  I  may  find  mercy  before  Him  and  this 
people.” 


CHILDREN  IN  THE  COTTON  FIELDS 

In  Texas  many  Bohemians  are  employed  in  the  cotton 
fields.  One-fifth  of  all  the  cotton  in  the  world  is  grown 
in  Texas.  The  crop  of  that  state  for  one  year  would 
make  a  suit  of  clothes  for  every  person  in  the  world. 
But  how  old  do  you  suppose  some  of  the  cotton  pickers 
are?  We  must  improve  matters  there. 

A  professor  in  Columbia  University,  who  is  deeply 
interested  in  all  children,  heard  an  owner  of  Texas  cotton 
fields  tell  of  the  wonderful  opportunities  of  Texas  for 
the  foreigner.  He  says,  “  The  man’s  income,  I  found, 
depends  on  the  number  of  children  he  has.  ‘  How  soon 
do  the  children  begin  to  work  ?  ’  I  asked. 

“  ‘  At  six  and  younger,’  he  replied  promptly.  ‘  I  recall 
one  boy  of  six  who  earned  fifty  cents  a  day,  the  season 
through.’ 

“  I  asked  about  school.  He  answered,  ‘It  is  a  pretty 
rough  country;  school  is  kept  when  there  is  nothing  to  do 
in  the  fields.’ 

“  {  And  what  is  the  effect  on  the  health  and  growth 
of  the  child  ?  ’  A  thoughtful  look  came  into  his  face, — I 
honestly  believe  he  had  never  thought  of  it  before, — and 
he  said,  ‘  Of  course  it  destroys  their  vitality.’  ” 

Is  that  the  way  we  should  treat  small  boys  and  girls 
who  come  to  America, — keeping  them  at  work  that  makes 


IN  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


35 


them  weak  and  making  their  minds  dull  by  toil?  Their 
fathers  are  doing  for  us  the  work  most  necessary  for 
the  welfare  of  our  land.  Should  not  Americans  see  to 
it  that  their  children  receive  the  rights  and  privileges 
of  American  boys  and  girls  ? 


IV 

GARDENERS  AND  FRUIT-GROWERS 


The  final  and  chief  test  of  a  scout  is  the  doing  of  a  good 
turn  to  somebody  every  day,  quietly  and  without  boasting.  This 
is  the  proof  of  the  scout.  It  is  practical  religion,  and  a  boy 
honors  God  best  when  he  helps  others  most. — Boy  Scout  Hand¬ 
book. 


ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  boy.  He  came  to 
this  country  from  Denmark,  an  orphan  and 
friendless.  His  father  had  been  killed  in  a  war 
with  Germany.  He  had  grown  up  with  bitter  feelings 
against  the  Germans.  And  this  is  his  story,  just  as  he 
tells  it  himself : 

AN  ANGEL  WITH  A  FRECKLED  FACE 

“  I  made  up  my  mind  to  go  to  America.  Probably 
some  day  I  would  gather  up  an  army  of  the  fiercest  In¬ 
dians,  march  them  against  Berlin  and  tell  them  to  throw 
stones  at  the  shins  of  the  German  Emperor. 

“  I  happened  to  ‘  light 5  in  an  Illinois  corn  field.  I  had 
expected  Uncle  Sam  to  hand  me  a  saber,  or  a  gun,  and 
here  he  handed  me  a  hoe !  The  man  I  worked  for  hired 
*  green  foreigners/  as  he  called  them,  because  he  could 
get  them  for  less  money.  I  tried  to  do  my  best,  but  I 
was  sick  with  malaria  and  homesick,  I  wished  I  might 
die.  Yet  I  learned  a  little  by  asking  questions  of  the 
small  boys  in  the  family;  the  larger  boys  made  fun 
of  me. 


36 


GARDENERS  AND  FRUIT-GROWERS  37 


“  But  a  better  day  came.  An  angel  walked  across  the 
road  to  me  one  day  while  I  was  hoeing  in  the  corn  field, 
an  angel  with  a  freckled  face,  wearing  an  old  straw 
hat,  and  barefooted,  with  one  pants  leg  rolled  up  higher 
than  the  other.  That  was  the  neighbor’s  boy.  He  began 
to  talk  to  me  about  our  country  and  about  our  old  king 
and  his  family,  and  we  managed  to  understand  each  other 
quite  well.  He  was  different  from  the  big  boys  down  at 
our  house.  He  could  nearly  always  guess  what  I  was 
trying  to  say ;  then  he  would  help  me  out  without  laughing 
at  me.  So  after  that  day  I  often  looked  across  the  road 
for  the  neighbor’s  boy,  and  when  one  day  he  asked  me 
if  I  would  like  to  work  for  his  father  the  next  summer, 
I  felt  almost  like  hugging  him ! 

'‘We  were  looked  upon  as  foreigners.  That  word 
‘  foreigner  ’  used  to  sound  terrible  to  me.  I  had  come 
here  in  hopes  of  becoming  an  American  and  here  I  was, 
a  ‘  foreigner.’  When  I  was  paid  off  in  the  fall  I  went 
up  to  Springfield  to  get  an  education.  I  had  sixty  dollars 
and  thought  I  might  have  the  best.” 

(This  Danish  boy  who  wanted  to  become  an  American 
could  not  find  a  place  where  he  could  work  his  way.  He 
wandered  about  week  after  week,  friendless  and  homeless. 
Little  by  little  his  money  slipped  away,  and  he  became 
very  unhappy  in  the  dirt  and  poverty  of  the  place  where 
he  had  to  stay.) 

“  At  night  when  I  repeated  the  Lord’s  prayer,  I  fancied 
I  could  see  our  cottage  at  home,  with  the  roses  on  the 
roof.  I  wondered  if  Aunt  and  Uncle  up  in  heaven  could 
see  me.  One  morning  I  counted  my  money  and  found  I 
had  enough  for  only  two  weeks  more.  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  go  back  to  the  country.  Everything  was  yet 


38  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 

covered  with  snow.  It  was  too  early  to  begin  farm 
work  and  I  feared  they  might  not  want  a  farm  hand 
then;  but  the  thought  of  that  boy  gave  me  courage.  I 
would  go  talk  it  over  with  him,  and  he  might  be  able 
to  help  me. 

“  My  friend  had  seen  me  coming  up  the  road  and 
was  at  the  door  to  meet  me !  The  family  welcomed  me, 
they  took  me  into  their  home;  I  could  help  them  do 
chores  for  my  board  until  work  began  and  then  work  for 
wages ! 

“  In  this  home  there  were  a  piano,  papers,  magazines 
and  good  books.  Soon  I  learned  to  read  English  fairly 
well.  The  father  explained  to  me  the  American  govern¬ 
ment.  The  mother  had  flowers,  just  as  my  aunt  had  had, 
and  she  would  tell  me  their  English  names.  Three  years 
I  spent  with  these  friends,  attending  district  school  in 
the  winter,  learning  new  things  every  day.  I  was  happy 
because  I  had  found  a  home  and  a  country  and  was  no 
longer  called  an  ignorant  foreigner.  My  life  was  made 
broad  and  bright,  just  because  an  American  boy  stepped 
across  the  road  and  talked  to  me  about  my  king  and  my 
country.”  * 


WANTED — A  FRIENDLY  HAND 

What  do  you  think  of  that  story?  I  know  how  it 
makes  me  feel.  I  would  rather  be  that  farm  boy,  and 
know  that  I  had  helped  a  homesick  stranger  become  a 
happy  American,  than  to  have  all  the  degrees  of  D.D.  or 
M.D.  or  LL.D.  that  a  university  could  give !  And  it 
gives  us  the  secret  of  the  problem  about  foreigners 
and  farming.  Every  state  in  the  Union,  as  we  found  in 
the  last  chapter,  is  crying  for  farmers.  Why  do  not 

*  Courtesy  of  The  Chautauquan. 


GARDENERS  AND  FRUIT-GROWERS  39 


more  foreigners  seek  the  open  country?  They  need  a 
friendly  hand ! 

Put  yourself  in  their  place.  Suppose  you  should  arrive 
in  Germany,  strong  and  ready  to  work,  but  poor,  and 
knowing  no  word  of  German.  In  the  city  are  many  of 
your  countrymen,  they  can  get  you  work  in  a  factory. 
Side  by  side  with  them,  you  need  speak  little  German. 
Living  with  them  you  are  not  so  homesick.  To  get  out 
into  the  country  takes  much  money  for  car  fare,  you 
cannot  work  for  a  farmer  unless  you  can  understand 
orders, — and  so  many  words  are  needed  to  explain  the 
many  tasks  of  farming!  You  cannot  buy  land  without 
money,  you  can  earn  much  more  in  the  city  than  as  a 
farm  hand, — what  would  you  be  likely  to  do  ? 

And  there  is  another  reason — our  western  farms  are 
so  terribly  lonely!  Farm  life  is  different  in  Europe, 
where  the  little  homes  are  clustered  in  a  village  around 
the  church,  the  school,  the  playground.  There  is  the  daily 
chat  with  neighbors,  there  are  holiday  processions  and 
pageants,  merry  makings  and  festivals.  To  be  sure,  the 
farmer  has  to  tramp  several  miles  a  day,  back  and  forth 
from  his  fields,  but  that  is  all  in  the  day’s  work.  Imagine 
the  feelings  of  such  sociable  folk  when  their  farms  are" 
miles  apart,  such  as  are  those  of  the  Bohemian  pioneers ! 

PILGRIM  FATHERS  BY  WAY  OF  ELLIS  ISLAND 

Probably  that  is  one  reason  the  Poles  prefer  New  Eng¬ 
land  villages  to  western  prairies — they  are  so  much  more 
social.  For  you  may  see  strange  sights  now  in  staid 
New  England.  If  you  were  to  walk  down  the  quiet  main 
street  of  a  number  of  villages  near  the  Connecticut  river 
you  would  see  the  dignified  colonial  homes,  broad  and 
hospitable,  still  shaded  by  stately  elms.  It  would  seem 


40 


COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


that  portraits  of  Pilgrim  Fathers  must  hang  on  those 
walls,  that  Mayflower  furniture  alone  could  be  appro¬ 
priate,  and  that  the  children  must  represent  the  culture 
of  the  Boston  owl,  which,  we  are  told,  never  says  “  To- 
who,”  but  always  “  To-whom !  ”  But  the  little  folks  that 
tumble  about  that  stately  mansion  have  such  names  as 
Sobieski  and  Pultowski  and  Jackenowski.  Their  fathers 
were  pilgrims,  but  they  came  by  way  of  Ellis  Island  and 
not  by  way  of  Plymouth  Rock. 

We  may  view  them  with  dismay  and  sigh  for  our 
dear  Yankee  children,  but  this  is  another  case  where 
the  foreigner  has  come  to  our  relief.  It  was  about  1880 
that  the  New  England  farmers  were  dismayed  to  find 
themselves  without  hands  to  work  their  fields.  Crops 
were  coming  on,  no  help  was  in  sight,  the  demand  was 
pressing,  what  should  they  do?  One  pushing  farmer 
thought  of  Castle  Garden,  the  Ellis  Island  of  that  day, 
where  thousands  of  immigrants  were  landing.  He  went 
down  to  New  York  City  and  brought  back  a  party  of 
sturdy  Poles.  It  was  a  success;  he  must  have  brought 
thousands  since.  Another  farmer  took  up  the  profitable 
business  of  supplying  cheap  labor  and  in  six  years  found 
places  for  three  thousand  Poles  in  New  England. 
“  Then,”  as  this  farmer  writes  of  it,  “  it  became  no  longer 
profitable.  The  Poles  had  by  this  time  learned  to  find 
their  own  places.”  .  .  . 

“  The  stories  told  them  by  some  of  the  New  York  agents 
and  others  who  wanted  to  make  money  out  of  them  at 
times  caused  trouble,”  he  admitted.  That  is  what  has 
always  made  trouble, — the  men  who  have  lied  to  make 
money  out  of  foreigners,  and  the  people  who,  while  they 
allowed  them  to  labor,  treated  them  with  disdain,  as  if 
they  were  inferior  beings.  It  was  hardly  fair,  when  the 
New  England  farmer  so  needed  help,  that  the  Pole  who 


GARDENERS  AND  FRUIT-GROWERS  41 


supplied  it  had  to  pay  as  much  as  ten  dollars  for  the 
privilege ! 

Before  the  coming  of  the  Poles,  the  farmers  of  the 
Connecticut  valley  had  thought  that  only  the  rich  land 
near  the  river  was  worth  cultivating,  and  they  had  prac¬ 
tically  abandoned  the  thin  soil,  higher  up.  The  Poles 
discovered  that  this  light  soil  was  quite  as  profitable  for 
certain  crops,  and  consequently  the  terrace  lands  have 
quadrupled  in  value.  The  immigrant  usually  begins  as 
a  hired  man  with  monthly  wages.  He  learns  to  raise 
tobacco  and  onions,  the  staples  of  the  district.  After  a 
time  he  buys  land  or  takes  it  on  shares.  He  makes  a 
good  farmer  and  good  citizen.  He  is  honest  and  pays 
promptly. 

The  men  are  as  shrewd  as  the  Yankees  in  trading.  One 
young  Pole  named  Roman  Skibisky,  in  1901,  made  four 
thousand  dollars  dealing  in  onions.  He  purchased  about 
sixty-five  hundred  bushels  of  onions,  paying  forty  cents 
a  bushel  for  them.  He  kept  them  in  cold  storage  and 
sold  them  in  the  spring  at  $1.10  a  bushel.  In  school  their 
children  do  well.  These  children  may  be  gathered  into 
our  American  Sunday-schools,  many  of  the  elders  having 
no  church  connection. 

In  1911,  the  Polish  farmers  of  New  England  were 
given  a  fine  opportunity  to  learn  the  best  things  about 
farming,  and  so  pleased  were  they  that  they  wrote  home, 
and  an  account  of  it  was  published  in  the  newspapers  of 
Poland.  This  is  what  happened.  The  Massachusetts 
Agricultural  College  invited  the  Polish  farmers  to  spend 
a  day  with  them.  Ninety-five  intelligent  men  responded, 
and  the  faculty  say  that  never  within  their  college  build¬ 
ings  were  there  gathered  more  appreciative  listeners. 
Through  an  able  interpreter,  these  Poles  not  only  learned 
the  most  up-to-date  farm  methods,  but  they  heard  stir- 


42  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


ring  addresses  on  good  citizenship,  and  “  What  the  Polish 
People  Have  Done  for  America.” 

WHO  ARE  THESE  POLES? 

There  are  probably  three  million  Poles  in  our  country, 
and  they  are  found  in  our  cities  and  on  farms,  east  and 
central  west.  Wisconsin  says,  “  We  want  all  the  Poles 
we  can  get.”  Theirs  has  been  a  great  nation ;  they  have 
given  to  the  world  Copernicus,  the  astronomer,  Chopin, 
the  composer,  Paderewski,  the  pianist,  Sienkiewicz,  the 
novelist,  Sobieski,  the  patriot,  Pulaski  and  Kosciusko 
who  aided  us  in  the  Revolution.  Their  home  land  lies 
between  Russia,  Germany  and  Austria.  About  the  time 
of  our  own  Revolution  they  lost  their  independence  as 
a  nation  and  became  subject  to  these  three  nations.  They 
have  been  sorely  oppressed  and  they  are  coming  to  this 
country  to  give  their  children  the  freedom  and  comfort 
that  they  have  been  denied.  They  are  ready  to  work, 
ready  to  learn,  ready  to  become  good  citizens.  Many 
of  their  settlements  are  found  in  Long  Island,  New 
York  and  New  Jersey. 

One  little  Russian  immigrant  to  New  England,  Mary 
Antin,  is  now  a  charming  writer,  the  wife  of  a  professor 
in  Columbia  University.  Her  story,  “  The  Promised 
Land,”  is  aglow  with  enthusiasm.  The  Boston  public 
schools  were  to  her  the  gates  of  paradise.  She  pictures 
so  vividly  the  blossoming  of  her  own  child  soul  that 
your  heart  thrills  with  hers  as  you  read.  In  the  midst 
of  poverty  so  dark  you  might  think  no  cheer  could  reach 
her,  she  says  :  “  My  world  ever  rang  with  good  tidings  !  ” 
Of  the  Boston  public  library  she  writes,  “  Did  I  not 
say  it  was  my  palace?  Mine,  though  I  was  born  an 
alien,  though  I  lived  on  Dover  Street!  My  palace, — 
mine,  mine !” 


GARDENERS  AND  FRUIT-GROWERS  43 

“  Florida  produces  most  of  the  onions  that  are  grown 
in  New  York.”  Does  that  have  a  queer  sound?  This 
explains  it, — Florida  is  a  small  town  in  New  York  State. 
And  here,  as  well  as  in  New  England,  the  Poles  are 
raising  onions.  So  many  are  the  onions  and  so  fragrant 
that  one  traveler  remarks  that  as  his  train  passed  through 
in  the  spring  time  he  could  smell  them,  though  the 
fields  were  several  miles  away.  He  says  in  The  Out¬ 
look: 

“  I  saw  a  family  of  seven,  father,  mother,  five  children, 
all  on  their  knees  among  the  onions.  I  asked  one  of 
these,  a  little  girl  of  eleven,  with  a  sweet  smile  and  with 
English  she  had  acquired  in  the  district  school,  which 
she  liked  better,  work  or  school.  ‘  School/  she  answered 
simply ;  ‘  work  in  the  fields  is  harder/  And  surely  it  is. 
From  six  in  the  morning  until  eight  at  night  they  toil; 
they  seem  to  have  acheless  backs  and  tireless  hands.  An 
hour  and  a  half  of  this  hand  and  knee  work,  in  the  hot 
August  sun,  would  discourage  most  of  us. 

“  The  mother  usually  has  a  high-wheeled  baby  carriage 
in  which  she  trundles  the  youngest  to  the  field,  and  leaves 
it  under  the  shade  of  a  tree,  perhaps  guarded  by  a  dog, 
while  she  goes  off  to  her  work.  Or  she  gets  her  ‘  man  ’ 
to  make  a  shelter  for  the  baby.  Three  stout  sticks  are 
stuck  in  the  soft  ground,  forming  a  tripod  to  which  a 
sheet  or  blanket  is  tied.  In  this  the  baby  is  placed  with 
a  covering  to  shield  it  from  the  sun.  ‘  We  work  five 
months  and  live  twelve/  said  one  man.  They  looked 
strong  and  healthy,  but  my  heart  went  out  to  the  young 
mother  who  told  me  she  had  to  work  in  the  fields  4  only  ' 
from  eight  in  the  morning  to  five  at  night,  because  of  h et 
five-months-old  baby.  And  yet  she  seemed  cheerful  and 
happy,  on  her  knees  there  in  the  black  dirt,  looking  up 


44  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


smilingly  through  her  red  sunbonnet  as  she  told  me  how 
good  the  baby  was.” 

/ 

Italians  also  are  very  successful  in  market  gardening. 
It  is  said  that  there  is  not  a  single  city  reached  by  Italians, 
having  available  market  land  near  it,  that  is  not  now 
receiving  vegetables  and  fruits  from  Italian  labor.  We 
find  such  settlements  in  New  England,  the  Eastern  States, 
in  Ohio  and  Alabama,  Tennessee  and  Texas.  They  are 
adepts  in  the  culture  of  berries  and  grapes.  California 
has  many  Italians  successful  in  grape  culture.  In  Louisi¬ 
ana,  Mississippi  and  Texas  they  raise  cotton.  Germans, 
Hollanders  and  Scandinavians  are  thrifty  farmers  in  our 
northwest.  The  Portuguese  are  successful  market  gar¬ 
deners  on  our  eastern  and  western  coasts.  The  Japanese 
and  the  Greeks  are  largely  employed  in  California  fruit 
culture.  The  Swiss  are  capable  dairy  farmers. 

THE  BEST  THING  YET 

We  began  this  chapter  with  the  story  of  an  American 
farm  boy,  shall  we  close  it  with  the  story  of  a  young 
man,  fresh  from  college?  The  boy  lived  in  Illinois,  the 
young  man  lives  in  North  Carolina.  One  day  he  and 
his  father  were  traveling  on  the  train  through  their  broad 
lands  like  western  prairies.  “  I  don’t  know  what  to  do 
with  it,”  said  his  father.  This  set  the  boy  to  thinking. 
When  he  left  college  he  was  still  thinking,  thinking,  how 
best  to  use  not  only  his  father’s  acres  but  the  thousands 
lying  idle  in  the  South.  It  was  the  same  problem  that 
men  from  every  state  studied  in  that  memorable  Con¬ 
ference,  which  we  talked  of  in  our  last  chapter, — “  How 
shall  we  get  our  land  tilled  ?  ”  After  studying  western 
farming  and  Canadian  farming,  Hugh  MacRae  made  up 


GARDENERS  AND  FRUIT-GROWERS  45 


his  mind  that  the  very  best  work  would  be  done  by  divid¬ 
ing  the  land  into  little  farms, — so  small  that  one  family 
could  own  the  land  and  do  all  the  work,  not  needing  to 
hire  help.  He  sent  men  abroad  to  find  out  where  the 
best  farming  was  done.  He  found  that  the  English- 
speaking  people,  the  Germans  and  French  did  not  want 
to  do  our  farming.  He  found  honest,  busy  farming  folk 
in  north  Italy,  men  eager  to  earn  little  homes  for  their 
children.  He  brought  over  seven  families.  This  was  the 
beginning !  What  has  he  now  ?  That  first  Italian  colony 
has  grown  to  number  forty-seven  happy  families,  each 
with  a  comfortable  home !  Besides  this  first  colony  there 
are  now  colonies  of  Germans,  Hollanders  and  Hun¬ 
garians,  one  all  Poles  and  one  Poles  and  Hollanders. 
Each  colony  is  prospering,  each  group  is  doing  the  thing 
they  know  best  how  to  do. 

And  why  has  this  young  man  succeeded  when  other 
such  schemes  have  failed?  He  has  succeeded  because  of 
his  beautiful  friendliness !  He  thought  out  the  needs  of 
the  foreigners.  He  put  himself  in  their  place.  He  found 
they  needed  some  one  to  tell  them  where  they  could  best 
raise  the  crop  they  understood  at  home.  So  he  has  men 
who,  in  their  own  language,  explain  the  soil  and  what  it 
is  adapted  to.  He  hires  experts  from  all  over  the  country 
to  teach  them  the  most  advanced  methods  of  farming, 
he  has  it  done  for  them  in  object  lessons  before  their 
eyes.  If  they  have  no  money  at  first,  he  has  plenty  of 
day  labor  for  them  on  public  works;  he  helps  them  to 
start  their  own  farms,  the  best  seeds  are  provided,  care 
is  given  to  the  marketing  of  their  crops,  that  they  may 
receive  the  best  returns. 

The  people  cluster  together  about  the  little  churches 
and  schoolhouses,  where  the  children  learn  English.  One 
colony  has  a  brass  band !  Best  of  all  is  the  pride  in  their 


46  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 

own  little  homes.  They  cover  them  with  vines,  they 
inclose  their  gardens  with  hedges,  they  hang  lace  curtains 
in  the  windows.  As  soon  as  a  man  owns  his  piece  of 
land  he  feels  he  is  a  partner  in  the  whole  United  States, — 
no  fear  of  his  becoming  an  anarchist, — he  is  too  eager  to 
become  a  good  American.  There  is  something  about 
owning  a  bit  of  ground  and  tilling  it,  that  seems  to  stir 
the  very  best  in  any  man.  And  how  happy  they  are! 
One  boy  of  only  seventeen  was  ambitious  to  own  his 
own  land.  He  showed  it  exultantly  to  a  visitor,  waving 
his  arms  joyously  about,  as  he  exclaimed, — “  In  t’ree  year 
more  I  own  all  dis !  ” 

This  is  all  the  work  of  a  vigorous,  thoughtful,  neigh¬ 
borly  young  American  who  welcomes  the  foreigner  with 
a  friendly  hand.  Oh,  yes,  it  pays,  too,  as  an  investment, 
but  Mr.  MacRae  says :  “  It  is  not  a  matter  merely  of 
raising  vegetables,  or  of  making  money,  but  of  raising 
human  beings, — of  making  men  and  women.” 


V 


IN  THE  CONSTRUCTION  CAMP 

With  their  hands  they  have  builded  great  cities,  and  they 
cannot  be  sure  of  a  roof  over  their  heads.  They  have  opened 
mines  .  .  .  and  they  are  cold.  With  their  hands  they  erect 
temple  and  palace,  and  their  habitation  is  a  room  in  a  crowded 
tenement. — Helen  Keller. 

HOW  does  our  land  now  differ  from  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers’  home?  They  lived  in  log  cabins  and 
drew  their  water  from  a  spring.  We  have 
towering  cities  with  spring  water  supplied  by  an  aqueduct. 
Instead  of  footpaths  through  the  wilderness,  our  high¬ 
ways  are  macadamized  roads,  canals  and  railways.  Who 
made  these  aqueducts  and  highways?  “Our  engineers,” 
do  you  answer  proudly,  and  feel  sure  that  here,  at  least, 
we  Americans  are  doing  our  own  labor?  Consider  for 
a  moment  the  names  of  our  American  engineers, — how 
many  have  a  foreign  ring!  And  did  you  ever  stop  to 
think  how  few  would  be  our  public  works  had  we  only 
engineers  ?  They  supply  only  the  brain-work, — they 
draw  the  plans  and  solve  the  problems.  Dig,  dig,  dig — 
that  is  the  way  the  road  begins ;  pick,  pick,  pick, — shovel, 
shovel,  shovel, — that  is  the  way  the  canal  proceeds,  and 
the  aqueduct. 

And  who  supplies  the  muscle?  At  first  it  was  the 
Irishman,  but  now  he  is  “  boss,”  and  strange  as  it  seems, 
most  of  our  diggers,  those  who  go  to  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  for  us,  laying  the  foundations  of  our  skyscrapers, 
those  pick  and  shovel  men,  belong  to  the  nation  that  has 

47 


48  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 

given  us  the  most  treasured  objects  in  our  cities — the 
marvels  of  Italian  art!  Think  of  it,  as  you  travel,  and 
see  gangs  of  Italians  digging  by  the  roadside.  Their 
friends  say  that  they  are  so  sensitive  that  harsh  orders 
from  the  “  boss  ”  sting  them  as  a  blow.  In  the  south  and 
west  railway  construction  work  is  now  performed  by 
Mexican  laborers. 

WHERE  THEY  CAMP  OUT 

Did  you  ever  camp  out?  Have  you  slept  under  the 
open  sky,  and  watched  the  exquisite  changes  of  a  summer 
night, — the  sunset,  the  rise  of  the  moon,  the  flitting  cloud, 
the  unspeakable  glory  of  the  dawn?  Have  you  enjoyed 
the  comradeship  of  life  in  the  open — long,  intimate  talks 
around  the  blazing  logs  of  your  camp  fire?  If  this  joy 
has  been  yours,  you  think  of  camping  as  the  very  poetry 
of  life.  The  laborers  on  our  highways  and  aqueducts 
live  in  camps, — but  their  experiences  are  not  so  happy 
as  yours.  The  laborers  on  a  railway  are  usually  housed 
in  old  box  cars,  dumped  by  the  roadside.  These  are 
often  without  windows,  they  have  no  lockers.  In  them 
men  sleep  and  keep  their  belongings.  The  cooking  and 
washing  is  done  out  of  doors  in  the  summer.  In  the 
winter  a  stove  must  be  crowded  into  the  car,  and  the 
cooking  done  there.  If  there  are  no  cars,  the  men  make 
themselves  shacks  from  discarded  bits  of  board  and  tin. 
In  some  cases  the  conditions  are  so  wretched  that  it  is 
said  “  the  very  beasts  of  the  jungle  live  better  than  they.” 

And  are  these  quarters  provided  without  charge?  By 
no  means.  Even  if  the  cars  are  so  foul  that  the  men 
prefer  to  sleep  on  the  ground,  they  must  each  pay  the 
padrone  for  rent.  Their  food  they  must  buy  of  this 
padrone.  It  may  be  so  stale  that  they  cannot  eat  it,  but 


IN  THE  CONSTRUCTION  CAMP  49 

buy  it  they  must,  even  if  they  throw  it  away  to  buy  else¬ 
where. 

This  “  padrone  ”  is  accountable  for  most  of  their 
troubles.  He  is  their  labor  agent.  When  a  contractor 
needs  men,  he  sends  for  the  padrone;  the  padrone  gets 
the  immigrants  from  the  city,  charging  each  from  $1 
to  $3  for  the  chance  of  the  job.  His  greatest  profit  is 
on  the  two  items  of  rent  and  food.  No  wonder  that 
laborers  are  found  housed  in  tiers  in  horse  stalls,  in 
stables  and  condemned  houses.  In  one  such  building 
where  the  only  way  to  reach  their  bunks  was  by  rickety 
stairs,  the  company  posted  a  notice  that  the  men  used 
those  stairs  at  their  own  risk !  Where  men  work  in  shifts 
the  rude  bunks  frequently  serve  for  three  sets  of  men. 
For  such  accommodations  men  pay  one  dollar  a  month 
and  for  food  they  pay  higher  than  city  prices  for  what 
is  often  unfit  to  eat.  If  the  men  complain  to  the  padrone, 
they  are  discharged.  The  contractor  pays  the  men 
through  the  padrone,  and  whatever  charges  he  may  make 
are  deducted  before  the  men  get  their  pay.  Men  are 
often  shifted  from  job  to  job  that  the  padrone  may  collect 
a  fresh  fee  for  each  change.  Yet  those  in  authority 
complain  that  the  men  are  restless,  they  change  about, 
they  are  not  satisfied  with  their  wages ! 

The  Italian  laborer,  landing  in  New  York,  is  often 
met  at  the  dock  by  the  padrone.  He  is  sent  with  a  gang 
to  a  construction  camp,  he  labors  there  in  the  midst  of 
discomfort  and  wretched  conditions,  and  at  the  end  of 
a  season  he  may  go  back  to  sunny  Italy  with  his  little 
hoard, — and  that  is  all  he  has  gained  from  our  beautiful 
America;  no  friendliness,  no  taste  of  liberty,  no  help 
toward  a  better  manhood,  or  a  better  home  for  his  chil¬ 
dren,  no  welcome  in  the  church  of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  construction  camps  on  public  works  carried  on 


50 


COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


by  the  state  are  little  better.  The  foreign  laborers  have 
scant  help  toward  becoming  good  Americans.  They  are 
crowded  in  shanties,  or  stables  considered  unfit  for  the 
teams  of  the  American  laborers.  In  November,  1909, 
several  philanthropic  people  made  a  tour  of  construction 
camps  in  New  York  State.  They  traveled  one  thousand 
two  hundred  and  eighty-six  miles  through  mud  and  rain. 
They  visited  camps  on  the  barge  canal  that  is  to  be  sev¬ 
eral  hundred  miles  long,  and  the  aqueduct  that  is  to  carry 
a  billion  gallons  of  water  daily  to  New  York  City.  They 
found  a  vast  amount  of  work  done  by  foreign  laborers,, 
some  of  those  on  the  barge  canal  being  encamped  on  land 
too  marshy  for  other  use.  They  found  the  padrone  in 
full  control  in  most  of  the  camps,  a  building  with  sixty- 
one  cots  for  a  hundred  men  and  other  ill  conditions.  The 
aqueduct  camps  conducted  by  the  New  York  City  govern¬ 
ment  are  better,  for  the  city  realizes  that  its  health  de¬ 
pends  on  its  pure  water.  The  quarters  there  are  better. 
These  camps  have  a  health  officer,  hospital  accommoda¬ 
tion,  standards  as  to  shacks,  water  supply  and  removal 
of  waste. 


A  PRIMER  FOR  THE  GANG 

Several  years  ago,  as  gangs  of  Italian  laborers  were  at 
work  on  the  aqueduct  near  Pittsburgh,  a  lady  from  New 
York  might  be  seen,  busily  noting  down  the  orders  of 
their  boss.  She  wrote  such  sentences  as  these,  “  All  grip 
the  rope  !  ”  “  Push,  boys,  push  !  ”  “  All  pull  this  way !  ” 
Who  was  she,  and  what  do  you  suppose  she  was  about? 
It  was  Miss  Sarah  Wood  Moore  of  New  York.  She  had 
studied  art  in  Italy,  she  loved  the  Italian  people.  Hef 
heart  went  out  to  their  laboring  men,  doing  our  heavy 
work,  dumbly  driven  by  orders  in  a  strange  tongue,  im- 


Courtesy  Society  tor  Italian  Immigrants 


IN  THE  CONSTRUCTION  CAMP 


5i 


posed  on  at  every  turn.  Often  they  were  injured  by 
accidents,  simply  because  they  could  not  understand  the 
warning  given. 

She  made  up  her  mind  that  their  first  need  was  Eng¬ 
lish.  But  of  what  use  was  the  primer,  such  as  you  and 
I  used?  “  It  is  a  cat,”  “  See  the  red  hen,”  is  slow  work 
when  a  man’s  life  is  in  danger  because  he  knows  not 
“  push  ”  from  “  pull.”  That  explains  her  seat  by  the 
roadside.  She  would  find  the  words  they  needed  most, 
and  from  them  make  a  little  primer.  She  opened  a  night 
school  at  the  labor  camp,  the  first  camp  school.  Miss 
Moore  did  not  waste  time  talking  about  immigrant  prob¬ 
lems, — she  visited  them  in  the  loneliness  of  their  camp, 
she  became  their  friend  and  she  made  friends  for  them. 
The  president  of  the  Pittsburgh  Board  of  Trade  said, 
“  She  has  given  to  America  an  altogether  new  idea  of 
what  these  fellows  are.  Since  her  coming  our  feeling  of 
distrust  and  aversion  has  entirely  vanished.  My  family 
was  formerly  afraid  to  occupy  our  summer  home  near 
the  camp.  Now  we  feel  the  camp  to  be  a  faithful  body¬ 
guard  of  men.” 

Is  it  because  the  Italian  is  so  used  to  sunny  skies  that 
he  dreads  a  drop  of  rain?  They  say  his  first  purchase 
in  America  is  an  umbrella  and  a  sprinkle  is  a  sign  to  stop 
work !  Miss  Moore’s  next  school  was  at  the  camp  of 
the  Ashokan  Reservoir,  near  Kingston,  New  York.  It 
is  taking  ten  years  to  construct  this  great  aqueduct,  so 
the  camps  are  permanent ;  many  men  have  their  families, 
and  a  special  district  school  has  been  opened  for  the 
children,  and  a  camp  school  for  the  men.  At  Valhalla, 
New  York,  another  great  reservoir  dam  is  being  con¬ 
structed,  also  under  the  control  of  the  New  York  City 
Water  Commission,  and  here,  too,  is  a  permanent  camp. 
There,  too,  went  Miss  Moore  to  start  the  helpful  work, 


52 


COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


and  there  she  died  at  her  post,  in  1911.  She  had  literally 
given  her  all  to  the  people  she  loved,  denying  herself  al¬ 
most  the  necessaries  of  life,  that  she  might  more  freely 
supply  their  needs.  Her  artistic  appreciation  of  the 
Italian  people  brought  her  very  near  them,  and  she  longed 
to  open  for  them  the  door  to  the  good  things  of  America. 
She  tried,  too,  to  open  the  eyes  of  Americans  to  the  pos¬ 
sibilities  of  the  Italian,  and  to  bring  the  two  into  sym¬ 
pathetic  relations.  It  was  a  work  most  Christlike  in  its 
ministry. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  TENEMENTS 

Italian  artists  have  given  us  our  loveliest  pictures  of 
the  Christ  Child, — are  we  worthy  the  name  of  Christians 
while  we  let  little  Italian  children  whom  Jesus  loves, 
work  long  hours  for  a  pittance,  starving  their  lives  to 
supply  our  luxuries?  I  could  show  you  pictures  of  little 
Antoinette,  eight  years  old,  who  receives  less  than  one 
cent  for  tying  forty  knots  in  a  willow  plume ;  Michelina, 
thirteen,  who  has  made  lace  since  she  was  ten.  She 
works  from  three  o’clock,  after  school,  until  nine  or  ten 
at  night.  Her  mother  says,  “Michelina  is  so  little  be¬ 
cause  she  maka  de  lace  so  much Poor  little,  dwarfed 
Michelina  in  free  America !  A  little  tot  of  three  makes 
540  forget-me-nots  in  a  day  for  five  cents.  Isn’t  it  piti¬ 
ful?  Tessie,  eight,  and  Genevieve,  six,  pick  nut  meats, 
after  school,  until  eight  at  night.  A  trained  nurse  from 
a  children’s  hospital  testifies  that  half  the  cases  of  spinal 
disease  that  come  to  her  are  caused  by  this  sort  of 
work.  And  Jesus  said,  “  Take  heed  that  ye  despise  not 
one  of  these  little  ones.”  The  fathers  of  these  children 
are  dock  laborers  or  “  shovel  ”  men,  perhaps  out  of  work. 
To  be  sure,  this  is  in  the  city,  but  often  these  men  are 


Courtesy  North  American  Civic  League  for  Immigrants 

A  Mother’s  Class  at  Valhalla  Camp  School 
A  Railroad  Construction  Camp 


IN  THE  CONSTRUCTION  CAMP 


53 


driven  to  the  city  by  the  wretched  conditions  of  camp 
life,  or  the  impossibility  of  keeping  their  families  with 
them  there. 

In  many  cities  and  towns  our  churches  have  opened 
chapels  for  the  Italians,  and  neighborly  service  has  been 
rendered  through  clubs  and  classes.  They  are  the  most 
responsive  of  all  foreign  people  to  such  effort,  and  several 
little  missions  have  developed  into  strong  churches.  The 
construction  camps,  of  which  we  have  talked  in  this  chap¬ 
ter,  are  usually  apart  from  the  towns  and  their  Christian 
ministries. 

FRIENDS 

At  Kensico  Dam,  Valhalla,  New  York,  is  the  best  in¬ 
stance  of  American  friendly  help.  The  methods  resemble 
settlement  work  and  benefit  both  Italian  and  Slavic  la¬ 
borers.  There  are  a  kindergarten  for  the  little  ones  and 
a  playground  for  the  children,  sewing  and  housekeeping 
classes  for  the  women,  night  classes  for  the  men,  weekly 
entertainments  for  all.  Religious  services  are  held  in 
rotation  by  Protestants,  Greeks  and  Roman  Catholics. 
The  results  are  what  were  hoped  for :  the  people  live 
more  like  Americans,  the  men  work  better,  the  contractor 
and  the  laborer  are  drawn  nearer  together.  With  the 
exception  of  these  two  reservoir  camps,  the  neglect  of 
the  men  in  construction  work  is  appalling. 

In  the  summer  of  1912,  Dr.  Jane  Robbins,  of  Brooklyn, 
a  leader  in  the  Society  for  Italian  Immigrants,  made  up 
her  mind  to  open  a  school  for  laborers  on  an  electric 
road  in  western  Massachusetts.  When  she  arrived  on 
the  spot,  the  difficulties  were  so  great  it  seemed  at  first 
that  a  camp  school  was  impossible.  She  says  she  felt 
like  the  farmer  when  he  first  gazed  at  the  giraffe,  and 
exclaimed, — “There  ain’t  no  such  animile !  ”  The  build- 


54  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 

ings  used  for  the  temporary  camp  were  part  of  an  aban¬ 
doned  factory.  The  contractor  allowed  her  the  use  of 
a  room, — but  it  was  fifty  feet  long  and  sixty  feet  wide,— 
bare  and  dark.  Nothing  daunted,  Dr.  Robbins  began. 
She  issued  a  circular  in  Italian  in  which  she  told  the 
men  about  the  school. 

How  do  you  suppose  it  opened  ?  “  Distinguished  Sir !  ” 
that  is  a  little  surprising  for  a  shovel  man,  isn’t  it?  But 
the  explanation  is  that  the  Italian  considers  our  “  Dear 
Sir  ”  too  affectionate  for  common  use — and  it  had  to 
begin  some  way!  Tables  and  benches  without  backs 
were  made,  like  those  at  a  picnic  ground,  a  few  poster 
pictures  were  nailed  to  the  walls,  a  few  lanterns  gave 
a  gleam  here  and  there,  a  blackboard  was  hung,  and  a 
graphophone  rolled  forth  a  familiar  air, — that  was  the 
real  invitation. 

The  music  caught  the  ears  of  the  men  lounging  about 
the  dull  barracks  or  the  company  store  across  the  way. 
One  by  one  a  dozen  or  more  wandered  in.  Dozens  more 
listened  from  the  open  windows, — they  wanted  first  to 
see  what  it  would  be  like,  or  perhaps  they  were  too  tired 
to  “  wash  up.”  The  room  was  so  vast,  the  lanterns  in  the 
center  suggested  a  drop  of  light  in  a  waste  of  darkness, 
but  one  familiar  Italian  air  after  another  carried  a  home¬ 
like  wave  of  feeling  to  the  foreigner.  The  “  gentle 
lady,”  as  they  called  the  teacher,  spoke  to  them  in  their 
own  language, — how  good  that  sounded  to  homesick  ears ! 
She  hung  a  chart  on  the  wall.  On  it  were  pictures  of 
their  tools,  each  with  its  English  name,  and  one  by  one 
these  were  learned.  Then,  perhaps,  came  a  lesson  in 
English  on  “  How  to  light  a  fire.”  With  a  hatchet, 
the  teacher  illustrated,  “  I  take  a  hatchet.  The  hatchet 
cuts  the  wood.  I  pick  up  the  pieces,”  etc.  Not  very 
long  could  these  big  scholars  work  so  hard.  Soon  there 


IN  THE  CONSTRUCTION  CAMP 


55 


was  more  music.  “  I  love  that  word,  ‘  liberty,’  ”  said  one 
eager  scholar.  So  the  “  gentle  lady  ”  composed  this  song, 
which  they  sang  to  the  tune  of  “  Maryland,  My  Mary¬ 
land.” 


Now  let  our  voices  gayly  ring, 

Liberty,  O  Liberty ! 

Thy  praises  we  will  ever  sing, 

Liberty,  O  Liberty ! 

In  every  land,  by  every  sea, 

Strong  arms  grow  stronger  serving  thee : 
Thy  faithful  servants  we  would  be, 
Liberty,  O  Liberty ! 

Thy  name  shall  be  forever  dear, 

Liberty,  O  Liberty ! 

By  it  we  conquer  every  fear, 

Liberty,  O  Liberty ! 

As  friends  and  brothers  in  one  band, 

We  give  to  each  a  helping  hand 
Till  thou  shalt  rule  in  every  land, 

Liberty,  O  Liberty ! 


NOT  OXEN,  BUT  MEN  WITH  SOULS 

When  this  school  was  well  established  with  volunteer 
helpers,  Dr.  Robbins  was  ready  to  open  another.  But 
that  was  still  more  difficult,  for  the  next  camp  was  in 
the  woods,  nine  miles  from  the  first.  There  were  no 
houses  near  at  hand,  she  must  walk  two  miles,  after 
school,  to  the  nearest  farmhouse  for  the  night;  each 
alternate  day  she  must  return  to  Lee,  nine  miles,  by  any 
chance  vehicle  she  might  find.  The  contractor  allowed 
her  a  shanty  for  the  school  and  a  tool  chest  served  as 
desk.  Would  one  American  woman  be  willing  to  do  all 
this  for  a  gang  of  Italian  laborers?  An  old  berry- 
picker  of  the  neighborhood  was  interested.  He  met  her 


56  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 

on  the  road.  “  You  that  school  teacher?”  ‘"Yes.” 
“  You  ain’t  afraid  of  Italians?”  “  No.”  “  Not  forty 
thousand  Italians  ?  ”  “  No.”  “  I  guess  you’ll  do  !  ” 

One  night  there  was  a  heavy  thunder  shower  when 
school  was  over  and  the  contractor  asked  two  young 
men  to  accompany  the  teacher  on  her  two-mile  walk,  but 
the  thunder  so  alarmed  the  lads  that  she  sent  them  home 
and  continued  her  way  through  the  woods  alone ! 

The  camp  school  does  much  for  the  men.  They  need 
English  to  prevent  accidents,  to  guide  them  into  citizen¬ 
ship,  to  help  them  to  understand  their  work  and  to  adopt 
American  standards  of  living.  The  bosses  say  that  the 
schools  make  the  men  more  contented  with  their  work 
and  that  is  a  strong  point  in  their  eyes.  It  also  gives 
them  friends.  Each  man  may  be  but  a  “  number  ”  to 
the  boss,  who  thinks  only  of  his  strength  to  shovel,  but 
under  his  swarthy  skin  there  is  the  soul  of  a  man.  In 
his  heart  there  springs  enthusiasm  for  the  good  and 
beautiful.  Not  many  Americans  think  of  this,  but  the 
camp  school  teachers  win  the  men’s  friendship  by  their 
own  friendliness  and  they  bridge  the  gap  between  the 
boss  and  the  men  until  the  former  appreciates  that  he  is 
dealing  with  human  souls,  not  with  oxen. 

COLLEGE  MEN  AS  COMRADES 

Not  only  have  “  gentle  ladies  ”  realized  the  need  of 
the  foreigner  to  understand  English,  and  not  only  are 
the  Italians  the  pupils  to-day.  The  Young  Men’s  Chris¬ 
tian  Association  is  leading  thousands  of  young  Americans 
in  this  helpful  service.  In  such  classes,  in  1912,  15,000 
young  foreigners  were  studying  English  and  American 
government.  These  classes  are  largely  taught  by  volun¬ 
teer  workers.  In  Camden,  New  Jersey,  high  school  boys 


IN  THE  CONSTRUCTION  CAMP, 


57 


taught  successfully  and  a  host  of  college  men  are  thus 
engaged.  Some  have  declared  that  the  classes  of  for¬ 
eigners  they  taught  while  they  were  in  college  were  their 
best  preparation  for  engineering  work  which  placed  them 
later  in  charge  of  foreign  laborers.  Listen  to  what  was 
said  by  one  of  the  greatest  football  captains  America  has 
ever  known :  “  Remembering  what  I  learned  at  college, 
when  I  became  foreman  I  treated  my  gang  of  Italians 
as  men,  and  it  was  really  pitiful  to  see  the  way  they 
returned  the  little  kindness  I  showed  them.  There  were 
no  labor  difficulties.  Each  day  I  was  met  with  cheery 
words  of  greeting  and  the  men  never  failed  to  say  ‘  Good¬ 
night/  often  going  out  of  their  way  to  do  so.  When  the 
job  was  completed  they  came  to  me,  saying  they  wanted 
to  work  for  me  always.”  Many  Christian  Endeavor 
Societies  maintain  similar  classes.  Can  you  think  of  a 
service  more  pleasing  to  Him  who  said :  “  I  was  a 
stranger  and  ye  took  me  in.  .  .  .  Inasmuch  as  ye  have 
done  it  unto  the  least  of  these,  my  brethren,  ye  have 
done  it  unto  me  ”  ? 


VI 


CHILDREN  IN  CANNERIES 

u  I  live  for  -those  who  love  me, 

Whose  hearts  are  kind  and  true; 

For  the  heaven  that  smiles  above  me 
And  awaits  my  spirit,  too. 

For  the  cause  that  lacks  assistance, 

For  the  wrong  that  needs  resistance, 

For  the  future  in  the  distance, 

And  the  good  that  I  can  do.” 

AVE  you  heard  the  story  of  the  Alaska  Indian, 
who  was  amazed  at  the  number  and  variety  of 
articles  that  came  to  his  missionary  inclosed  in 
tin  ?  He  saw  canned  fruits  and  meats,  canned  vegetables 
and  oil,  canned  fish.  One  night  the  missionary  invited 
him  to  hear  his  newly-received  phonograph.  In  wondering 
awe  the  Indian  listened  to  a  familiar  hymn.  His  quiet 
comment  was,  “  Him  canned  missinnary !  ” 

Has  anything  ever  brought  to  your  mind  the  number 
of  tin  cans  that  come  into  your  home,  and  the  variety 
of  foodstuffs  that  they  contain?  Here  again  we  find 
that  our  “  Comrades  From  Other  Lands  ”  are  doing  much 
work  for  us.  East  and  west,  foreign  labor  is  employed 
in  the  canneries. 


CHILD  TOILERS 

Let  us  visit  a  cannery  in  New  York  State,  where  they 
are  at  work  on  beans.  Here  they  tell  us  that  no  machine 
has  yet  been  made  to  “  snip  ”  or  “  string  ”  the  beans  so 

58 


CHILDREN  IN  CANNERIES 


59 


well  as  the  fingers  of  little  children.  If  the  beans  are 
stringless,  the  snipping  consists  in  breaking  off  the  ends 
of  the  bean.  Here  we  see  over  one  hundred  little  chil¬ 
dren  at  work,  mostly  girls.  But  what  does  it  mean, — 
does  not  the  law  of  New  York  forbid  child  labor  in 
factories  under  fourteen,  and  after  that  for  longer  hours 
than  from  8  a.m.  to  5  p.m.?  This  is  the  explanation  we 
receive :  “  The  law  does  not  forbid  farm  labor  for  chil¬ 
dren,  and  as  most  of  the  work  done  by  children  in  can¬ 
neries  is  in  sheds  that  are  open  at  the  sides,  it  is  called 
outdoor  work,  and  the  law  does  not  touch  it.”  And  this 
is  the  result:  In  August,  1908,  593  children  under  four¬ 
teen  were  found  at  work  in  this  state.  In  one  factory 
the  majority  were  seven,  eight  or  nine  years  old.  In 
the  Italian  shed  were  children  working  of  all  ages,  from 
two  years  old ,  up!  In  1910,  in  one  factory,  children  were 
seen  working  ten  hours  a  day.  Shed  work  begins  at 
7  a.m.  and  has  been  known  to  continue  until  midnight. 
In  fifty-two  canneries  about  one  thousand  children  under 
sixteen  were  found  working. 

When  they  come  to  the  cannery  the  company  may  lodge 
the  workers  in  old  box  cars,  in  barns  or  shacks,  with  no 
privacy  and  the  poorest  drainage.  Two  rooms  are  usually 
allowed  to  one  family,  and  in  these  they  may  crowd  as 
many  children  or  boarders  as  they  wish.  Many  of  the 
workers  are  Italians,  or  Poles,  who  leave  the  city  early 
and  spend  about  six  months  in  cannery  work.  In  some 
cases  they  work  at  late  crops  until  Christmas.  The  whole 
family  is  occupied  in  the  busy  season.  The  children  sit 
close  to  mother  or  sister,  working  for  hours  at  intense 
speed.  They  may  be  released  to  take  a  box  of  beans  to 
the  weigher,  carrying  for  several  hundred  feet  weights 
far  too  heavy  for  their  years.  At  night  it  is  no  uncom¬ 
mon  sight  to  see  a  whole  family  of  children  fall  asleep 


6o  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


over  their  work,  while  the  parents  keep  stolidly  on  so 
long  as  the  supply  of  beans  holds  out. 

Where  the  children  are  not  employed  they  rove  about 
the  countryside,  neglected  by  their  parents  and  uncared 
for  by  health  or  school  officer.  When  they  return  to 
school  they  have  fallen  far  behind  their  regular  classes. 
One  Italian  boy  who  had  worked  in  a  tomato  factory 
until  November,  returned  to  school  and  was  dropped  to 
the  grade  of  a  year  before.  “  You  may  kill  me  if  you 
like,”  he  said  to  his  father,  “  but  I  won’t  go  back  to  the 
seventh  grade.”  Don’t  you  sympathize  with  him?  He 
was  one  of  the  few  boys  in  the  Italian  colony  who  had 
attained  the  seventh  grade. 

At  one  cannery  a  vacation  school  has  been  opened 
where  the  children,  detained  out  of  town  by  their  parents’ 
labors,  may  make  up  the  work  they  are  losing  in  city 
schools,  and  where  they  may  learn  to  make  things  with 
their  hands,  and  have  play  and  good  times. 

These  foreign  workers  are  often  obtained  by  means 
of  the  padrone,  who  brings  them  from  the  foreign  quar¬ 
ter  of  the  cities  or  small  towns.  These  homes  in  foreign 
quarters,  in  one  city  of  western  New  York,  are  “  no 
better  than  chicken  houses,”  one  investigator  testifies, 
and  she  says  that  no  such  living  conditions  exist  in 
Sicily,  from  whence  many  of  the  workers  come.  The 
great  cities  have  philanthropic  societies  which  befriend 
the  aliens,  but  the  small  towns  often  utterly  neglect  the 
workers  from  across  the  sea.  Friends  of  the  foreigner 
are  urging  such  small  towns  to  look  up  these  strangers 
and  provide  for  them  the  good  things  of  America, — clean 
homes,  good  schools,  the  use  of  the  school  at  night  for 
classes  and  lectures  and  pleasure  for  the  grown  people. 
They  are  asked  to  open  kindergartens  for  the  children, 
and  playgrounds,  and  to  invite  them  to  a  joyful  worship 


CHILDREN  IN  CANNERIES 


61 


of  the  Father  of  us  all.  The  foreigners  need  to  be 
taught  how  to  become  citizens,  they  need  interpreters  in 
court,  and  safe  banks  for  their  savings,  for  scant  justice 
is  often  shown  them.  Although  such  service  is  new  to 
most  towns,  the  people  are  usually  glad  to  help  when 
they  are  shown  how  to  do  it,  for  they  are  prejudiced 
against  the  foreigners  only  because  they  do  not  under¬ 
stand  them. 

SARDINES  OR  HERRING? 

Probably  most  of  your  “  French  sardines  ”  are  only 
herring  from  Maine!  Who  canned  them  for  you?  Chil¬ 
dren,  children,  children, — during  the  busy  season  not  less 
than  a  thousand  of  them,  under  fourteen  years  of  age, 
are  at  work,  and  almost  all  are  foreigners.  Many  come 
from  Canada.  The  season  lasts  from  April  to  December 
and  while  there  is  not  work  every  day,  there  may  be  any 
day ;  at  the  call  of  the  whistle  the  children  come  trooping 
to  the  cannery.  It  may  be  in  the  early  morning,  or  noon, 
or  late  at  night  when  a  boatload  of  fish  is  brought  in 
from  the  seines,  and  whether  the  children  are  asleep  or 
at  play,  they  must  obey  that  call.  All  the  fish  from  the 
haul  must  be  canned  before  stopping,  so  they  may  work 
fifteen  hours  at  a  stretch,  and  children  may  return  from 
their  work  at  midnight  or  be  called  out  in  the  gray  dawn. 
And  they  are  so  little !  Many  of  them  are  only  nine  or 
ten  years  old. 

A  visitor  says :  “  I  found  one  child  of  five  working  in 
the  packing  room,  usually  employed  as  long  as  the  other 
workers  and  earning  from  eight  to  twelve  cents  per  day.” 
The  work  is  simple, — that  of  scaling  or  “  flaking  ”  the 
little  fish, — and  children’s  deft  fingers  often  do  it  more 
easily  than  grown  folks!  The  flaked  fish  are  cooked 


62  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


in  ovens,  by  steam,  and  then  packed  in  the  cans  by 
women  and  children.  During  the  short  season  when 
there  is  no  work  at  the  canneries,  few  parents  insist  that 
their  children  shall  attend  school, — so  that  many  of  these 
little  workers  do  not  go  to  school  at  all.  The  cannery 
colony  is  utterly  neglected  by  the  school  and  by  the 
church.  Yet  these  children  will  one  day  be  American 
citizens,  and  they  are  now  heirs  of  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven. 


OYSTERS  AND  CRANBERRIES 

“  It  is  perfectly  possible  for  a  child  to  be  born  in  Balti¬ 
more  and  to  grow  up  to  the  age  of  fourteen  and  never 
attend  school.  That  is  what  is  going  on  all  the  time.” 
This  is  a  strange  statement — how  can  it  be? 

The  little  Poles  of  Baltimore  are  many  of  them  en¬ 
gaged  in  canneries.  They  work  near  by  during  the  full 
summer  season,  returning  to  Baltimore  in  November;  by 
the  last  of  November  they  migrate  to  Florida,  where  they 
help  to  can  oysters.  Their  work  is  to  “  shuck,”  or  shell, 
the  oysters.  Near  Appalachicola,  Florida,  there  are 
banks  of  oyster  shells,  fifteen  feet  deep,  covering  many 
acres, — these  oysters  were  almost  all  shelled  by  little 
children !  These  canning  factories  extend  from  Florida 
to  Louisiana  and  all  employ  children.  Many  of  four 
and  five  years  struggle  with  the  rough,  heavy 
shells,  and  earn  about  five  cents  a  day.  On  busy 
days  they  work  from  three  or  four  in  the  morning 
until  four  in  the  afternoon.  One  mother  urged  on  her 
five-year-old  boy,  saying,  “  He’s  lazy ;  he  could  earn  five 
cents  a  day  if  he’d  only  work.”  The  children  who  work 
on  the  shrimp  do  not  begin  so  early  in  the  morning,  and 
they  can  work  but  six  hours,  for  the  juice  of  the  shrimp 


CHILDREN  IN  CANNERIES 


63 


affects  the  fingers,  and  they  become  swollen  and  bleeding, 
yet  the  children  keep  bravely  at  it.  In  the  evening  the 
little  fingers  are  hardened  by  bathing  in  a  solution  of  alum, 
to  get  them  ready  for  the  next  day.  When  friends  of 
the  children  tried  to  pass  a  law  forbidding  this  child 
labor,  the  oyster  packers  protested  that  they  were  “  not 
Florida  children,  they  were  little  foreigners!  ” 

Who  pick  the  cranberries  for  your  Thanksgiving 
dinner?  Once  more  we  find  our  “  comrades  from  other 
lands/’  and  again,  such  little  folks!  In  New  Jersey  and 
Massachusetts  large  gangs  of  foreigners  are  employed 
for  brief  seasons.  In  New  Jersey  the  Italians  are  em¬ 
ployed  by  the  padrones,  as  they  are  for  construction 
work,  and  they  suffer  the  same  bad  treatment.  The 
padrones  charge  them  large  sums  for  getting  the  job 
and  sometimes  they  charge  a  commission  on  every  bushel 
they  pick.  They  sell  to  them  all  they  eat,  and  in  this 
they  make  all  the  money  possible.  They  crowd  the 
families  into  poor  shacks,  sometimes  a  family  of  eight 
being  crowded  into  one  room.  They  prefer  large  fami¬ 
lies,  for  every  child  is  a  picker, — even  the  babies  are 
carried  out  to  the  bogs;  all  the  others  must  work,  and 
sometimes  the  padrones  are  rough  with  them.  One-third 
of  the  workers  are  under  fourteen,  some  under  five. 
The  bogs  are  wet,  the  mosquitoes  are  as  bad  as  the 
padrones !  All  these  children,  like  the  cannery  children, 
lose  so  much  of  school  that  when  they  return  they  have 
fallen  behind  their  grade. 

FRIENDS  OF  CHILDREN 

Not  only  construction  camps  and  canneries  gather 
little  colonies  of  foreigners, — there  are  many  such  near 
brickyards,  mines  and  quarries.  Near  New  York  City, 


64  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


below  Coney  Island,  there  is  such  a  settlement  employed 
in  making  fertilizer.  There  are  fourteen  hundred  for¬ 
eigners  there,  including  Russians,  Italians,  Poles  and 
Germans.  This  little  colony  was  found  to  be  utterly 
neglected  by  the  city,  except  that  a  good  school  had  been 
opened.  Friends  of  the  foreigner  have  organized  a 
“  Civic  League  ”  for  the  men  and  a  “  Junior  League  ” 
for  the  boys  and  girls,  who  have  become  as  interested  as 
any  American  children  in  cleaning  up  their  yards  and 
streets  and  in  learning  to  become  good  Americans.  They 
have  evening  classes  for  grown  people,  and  entertain¬ 
ments.  A  visiting  nurse  is  needed  to  teach  the  care  of 
the  sick  and  good  motion  picture  shows  and  other  forms 
of  recreation.  The  little  Protestant  chapel  has  no  regular 
minister. 

The  National  Child  Labor  Committee  is  composed  of 
warm-hearted,  earnest  men  and  women  who  are  doing 
everything  in  their  power  to  secure  laws  in  each  state 
that  shall  forbid  toil  for  children.  In  1911,  they  said, 
“  The  fruit,  vegetable  and  seafood  canneries  remain 
practically  exempt  from  child  labor  legislation/’  In  1912, 
Congress  established  in  Washington  the  National  Child 
Welfare  Bureau.  This  investigates  conditions  of  child 
life  throughout  our  country  and  we  may  look  for  better 
things  through  its  help. 

WHAT  NEW  YORK  STATE  IS  DOING 

New  York  State  receives  and  distributes  nearly  three- 
fourths  of  the  foreigners  who  arrive  in  this  country,  and 
its  state  government  is  now  exerting  itself  in  a  fatherly 
care  of  the  stranger.  In  1906,  the  cry  for  farm  labor 
was  so  urgent  that  the  State  Department  of  Agriculture 
opened  a  Farm  Bureau,  with  an  office  in  New  York  City, 


CHILDREN  IN  CANNERIES 


65 


to  help  the  farmer  to  get  laborers,  and  to  guide  the  im¬ 
migrant  willing  to  go  to  the  country.  Later  on,  it  was 
realized  that  foreigners  on  arrival  need  friendly  help 
as  they  try  to  gain  a  foothold  in  a  strange  country,  they 
need  protection  from  men  who  take  advantage  of  their 
ignorance  to  cheat  or  mislead  them.  After  carefully  look¬ 
ing  into  the  matter,  the  State  Legislature,  in  1910,  cre¬ 
ated  the  Bureau  of  Industries  and  Immigration.  That 
may  sound  big  and  cold,  but  its  efforts  are  most  kindly 
and  the  people  who  are  at  the  heart  of  it  are  an  inspira¬ 
tion  to  us  all.  They  say :  “  The  making  of  new  races  into 
Americans  is  a  precious  part  of  America’s  inheritance.” 
They  wish  to  meet  the  stranger  with  the  hand  of  fellow¬ 
ship,  give  him  honest  employment  and  self-respect  and 
inspire  him  with  a  love  for  his  adopted  land. 

To  accomplish  this,  they  assure  every  foreigner,  ig¬ 
norant  of  our  language  and  our  laws,  a  hearing  in  his 
own  language,  where  he  may  receive  justice.  Their 
helpers  speak  Italian,  Polish,  German,  Yiddish,  French 
and  Hungarian.  They  try  to  prevent  by  law  the  abuse 
of  foreigners  as  they  land  and  look  for  work.  They 
encourage  them  to  seek  the  open  country.  They  have 
published  a  pamphlet  in  combined  English  and  Italian, 
or  English  and  Polish,  that  tells  the  stranger  about  our 
labor  laws,  the  care  of  property,  farm  conditions,  child 
labor,  and  how  to  become  a  citizen.  The  Sons  and 
Daughters  of  the  American  Revolution  have  issued  sim¬ 
ilar  pamphlets  for  free  distribution.  This  Bureau  inves¬ 
tigates  the  condition  of  foreigners  in  all  parts  of  New 
York  State  and  is  making  special  effort  to  have  every 
child  enrolled  in  school. 

The  daughter  of  a  well-known  Wall  Street  banker  of 
New  York  City  gave  her  time,  her  great  wealth,  and  her 
personal  service  to  the  foreigner,  through  this  Bureau. 


66  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


She  carried  on  tireless  investigations  in  their  behalf 
throughout  the  state,  and  on  such  a  trip  she  was  killed. 
Of  her  it  was  said,  “  The  state  has  no  enrolled  soldier 
who  has  responded  to  every  call  more  promptly,  who 
has  performed  the  duties  set  him  more  unflinchingly,  or 
who  has  given  his  life  more  utterly  on  the  field  of  battle 
than  she  in  the  cause  in  which  she  believed.” 

“  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay 
down  his  life  for  his  friends !’ 


VII 


WITH  THE  LUMBER- JACKS 

When  one  meets  Jesus  of  Nazareth  there  is  no  way  back; 
there  are  new  marching  orders,  and  they  call,  “  Forward.” 
— Steiner. 

WE  will  turn  our  eyes  from  the  little  children 
working  in  the  east  and  south  to  the  strong 
men  whose  axes  are  ringing  in  the  far  north¬ 
west.  “  Lumber- jacks  ”  they  call  the  men  of  this  great 
army.  There  are  30,000  in  Minnesota  alone,  and  almost 
a  half-million,  it  is  said,  in  our  northern  woods,  while 
the  whole  standing  army  of  the  United  States  numbers 
but  77,000  men.  There  is  a  man  whose  name  is  loved 
among  woodsmen  from  the  Adirondacks  to  Puget  Sound. 
The  lumber-jacks  call  him  their  “  Sky  Pilot,”  for  he 
guides  them  into  port  over  seas  that  are  wild  and  stormy. 
His  name  is  Frank  Higgins  and  he  is  a  man’s  man,  every 
inch  of  him.  His  stride  is  that  of  the  woodsman,  his 
voice  has  the  ring  of  true  friendliness,  his  grip  is  as 
honest  as  his  eye.  If  you  should  meet  him  in  the  wilder¬ 
ness  you  would  take  him  for  a  lumber-jack  himself,  for 
he  wears  their  costume  of  high  boots,  Mackinaw  coat 
and  cap. 

The  lumbermen  are  a  rough  company,  their  work  is 
hard,  and  when  they  return  to  town  they  are  fiercely 
beset  with  temptation.  The  saloon  keepers  and  the  gam¬ 
blers  lie  in  wait  for  them  and  often  despoil  them  of  their 
last  dollar,  but, — “  I  love  these  fellows,”  says  Higgins ; 

67 


68  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


“  I’d  rather  lift  the  down-and-outs  than  hobnob  with  mil¬ 
lionaires.  ‘  Does  it  pay  ’  ?  Why,  I’ve  bought  many 
a  man,  body  and  soul,  for  a  quarter.” 

“  Bought  them?  ” 

“Yes,  bought  them!  I  fed  them,  got  them  on  their 
feet  and  showed  them  the  love  of  Christ.  A  good  meal 
and  a  little  love  have  made  many  of  them  Christians.” 

WHERE  THE  AXES  RING 

When  logging  begins  in  any  locality  the  first  thing  done 
is  to  lay  out  the  road  over  which  the  logs  shall  be 
hauled.  Trees  are  felled,  every  stump  removed,  and  to 
make  the  road  as  nearly  level  as  possible  every  little 
hill  is  graded  down,  that  the  loads  may  be  heavy  and 
accidents  averted.  This  work  is  done  in  the  early  fall. 
When  the  bitter  cold  has  frozen  hill  and  valley,  the  rut 
cutter  is  sent  to  cut  a  deep  groove  in  each  side  of  the 
new  road.  Later,  the  ruts  are  filled  with  water,  and  in 
this  icy  track  the  runners  of  the  huge  logging  sleds  travel 
with  ease  and  safety,  carrying  their  tremendous  loads  to 
the  landing.  The  record  load  for  four  horses  in  Wis¬ 
consin  is  said  to  be  one  hundred  and  twenty-four  tons! 

Where  the  trees  are  felled  the  men  work  in  crews. 
The  sawyers  bring  the  giants  to  the  earth,  the  swampers 
clear  the  trunks  of  their  branches  and  make  the  clearings 
through  which  the  logs  are  drawn  to  the  “  skidway  ”  or 
road.  The  work  is  hard,  but  the  frosty  air  is  exhilarating, 
and  the  swinging  axes  strike  with  a  cheery  sound.  The 
men  are  at  work  when  the  sun  appears  and  it  is  dark 
when  they  return  to  camp. 

The  bunkhouses  are  big,  roomy  buildings,  with  double¬ 
decked  bunks  on  each  side,  the  ends  toward  the  center 
of  the  room,  where  there  is  a  large  stove.  Over  this  is 


WITH  THE  LUMBER-JACKS 


69 


built  a  rack  for  drying  the  men’s  clothes.  The  cold 
is  so  intense  that  every  lumber-jack  wears  several  pairs 
of  socks,  and  hundreds  of  pairs  may  be  seen  drying  at 
night.  Few  of  the  bunkhouses  have  any  tables.  Water 
and  tin  basins  are  near  the  door  for  those  who  care  to 
use  them.  The  cookshed  is  both  kitchen  and  dining 
room;  at  one  end  is  the  large  stove,  while  long  tables 
covered  with  oilcloth  fill  the  floor  space.  The  dishes 
are  of  tin  or  enamel  ware,  the  knives  and  forks  are  of 
iron,  the  spoons  are  of  tin.  The  food  is  abundant  and 
of  good  quality. 

Besides  these  two  buildings  there  is  an  office  where 
the  clerk  and  the  bosses  sleep,  and  here  is  found  a  little 
store  called  the  “wannigan.”  When  several  camps  are 
owned  by  one  company,  the  most  important  person  is  the 
representative,  called  the  “  walking  boss,”  who  passes 
from  camp  to  camp  to  oversee  the  work.  The  men  call 
the  camp  carpenter  the  “  wood  butcher,”  the  clerk  is  the 
“  ink-splasher.”  Most  of  the  men  work  as  farm  hands 
or  in  railway  construction  in  the  summer,  returning  to 
the  woods  for  the  logging  season.  It  is  said  that  three 
out  of  five  are  foreigners,  coming  from  Scotland,  from 
Canada,  from  Norway  and  Sweden,  laying  low  for  us  the 
forests  to  supply  our  broad  land  with  timber. 

THE  SKY  PILOT 

Frank  Higgins  had  strange  playfellows  when  he  was 
a  boy — they  were  Sioux  Indians !  His  home  was  in  the 
forests  of  Canada;  there  were  few  white  families  as 
neighbors,  but  Indian  tepees  were  near  by.  From  the 
Sioux  he  learned  to  draw  the  bow,  and  other  tasks  of 
the  growing  braves.  He  remembers  a  whipping  he  re¬ 
ceived  because  he  exchanged  a  loaf  of  his  mother’s 


70  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


bread  for  an  Indian  bow  and  arrows.  From  the  time 
he  was  twelve  years  old  he  helped  to  support  the  family, 
and  he  had  little  time  for  schooling.  When  he  was 
eighteen  he  gave  himself,  heart  and  soul,  to  his  Master^ 
and  at  once  began  to  lead  his  companions  to  Him.  He 
was  eager  to  preach, — he  says  that  when  working  in  the 
woods  he  would  preach  to  the  trees  and  the  stumps! 
When  he  was  twenty  he  had  the  opportunity  to  enter 
school  in  Toronto,  and  so  backward  was  he  that  he  had 
to  work  at  the  side  of  little  children,  but  he  stuck  to 
his  tasks  for  five  years.  Then  he  went  to  Minnesota 
and  became  a  lay  preacher.  Later  he  was  ordained  to 
full  ministry. 

One  day  Mr.  Higgins  went  with  a  friend  to  see  the  log 
drive.  Do  you  know  how  they  bring  the  mighty  loads 
of  lumber  to  the  mill?  Drawn  on  sledges  to  the  river¬ 
side,  it  waits  there  until  the  warm  springtime  opens  the 
water  courses,  and  upon  their  surface  the  giant  logs  are 
floated.  To  guide  them  in  their  course,  and  to  break  up 
the  masses  that,  gathering  in  midstream  and  wedging 
against  the  banks,  form  “  jams,”  the  rivermen,  or 
“  riverpigs,”  as  they  are  called,  spring  lightly  from  log 
to  log,  hauling  and  pushing  with  pike  and  peavey.  When 
the  day’s  work  is  done  the  men  flock  to  the  “  wannigan,” 
which  here  is  a  flat  boat,  combining  bunkhouse,  cook- 
shed  and  store. 

After  their  meal  that  evening  the  rivermen  lounged 
about  the  campfire,  and  what  do  you  suppose  they  asked 
of  Mr.  Higgins  ?  They  said,  “  Boss,  won’t  you  preach 
to  us  ?  ”  They  did  not  ask  him  to  tell  them  a  story,  or 
to  talk  to  them,  but  to  preach ,  and,  surprised  though  he 
was,  you  may  be  sure  that  the  man  who  had  preached  to 
stumps  was  glad  of  this  chance  to  preach  to  rivermen. 
He  stepped  upon  a  log  for  a  platform  and  began  to  sing 


Log  Driving 


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WITH  THE  LUMBER-JACKS  7* 

the  hymn,  “  Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee.”  Many  of  these 
men  were  from  Protestant  homes,  they  had  sung  that, 
hymn  in  boyhood,  and  their  voices  rang  out  in  the  twi¬ 
light.  Mr.  Higgins  prayed  for  them  from  a  full  heart, 
he  told  them  of  the  Man,  Christ  Jesus,  who  loves  the 
wanderer,  he  read  from  his  pocket  Testament,  and  again 
the  woods  rang  with  their  voices  as  they  sang,  Jesus, 
lover  of  my  soul.”  That  was  his  first  service  with  the 
woodsmen,  but  again  and  again  came  invitations  to  Mr. 
Higgins  from  both  rivermen  and  lumber- jacks  to  come 
to  them  and  preach,  until  at  length  he  gave  his  whole 
time  to  them  and  has  won  their  love,  and  the  name  of  the 
“  Sky  Pilot,”  or  the  “  Walking  Boss  for  the  Sky  Route 
Company.” 


A  DOG  TEAM,  BLIZZARDS  AND  WOLVES 

After  two  or  three  years  of  tramping  from  camp  to 
camp  the  Pilot  found  that  though  a  man  could  do  much, 
a  man  and  two  dogs  could  do  more,  so  he  bought  two 
large  St.  Bernards,  and  now  Flash  and  Spark  are  his 
constant  helpers.  The  doors  of  the  bunkhouse  open 
easily  without  raising  a  latch,  and  often  the  Pilot  drives 
the  team  against  the  door  and  right  into  the  bunkhouse 
a  novel  entrance  for  a  preacher!  The  men  crowd  around 
the  handsome  dogs,  for  the  lumbermen  are  passionately 
fond  of  animals,  and  the  minister  explains  his  errand 
and  plans  to  hold  a  service.  Flash  and  Spark  are  good 
travelers,  and  are  none  the  worse  for  thirty  or  forty 
miles.  One  night  the  Sky  Pilot  lost  his  way  and  had  to 
camp  under  the  sky  with  the  mercury  at  zero.  He  built 
a  roaring  fire  and  divided  with  his  dogs  his  only  suppei 
. — a  rabbit  he  had  shot.  The  dogs  pressed  close  for 
warmth,  and  during  the  night  howling  wolves  drew  near, 


72  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 

their  eyeballs  glowing  in  the  darkness.  The  missionary 
replenished  the  fire,  and  the  cheery  blaze  drove  the  wolves 
back  into  the  silence  of  the  forest.  Another  time,  in  a 
blinding  blizzard,  Mr.  Higgins  lost  all  sense  of  direction, 
and  was  obliged  to  camp  with  his  dogs  until  the  worst  of 
the  storm  had  passed. 

Not  like  any  church  service  you  ever  attended  is  that 
in  the  bunkhouse.  Seventy-five  men  may  be  crowded  into 
the  log  shack,  lounging  on  the  bunks,  or  benches.  They 
are  coatless,  collarless,  often  bootless,  while  their  boots 
are  heaped  around  the  stove  to  dry.  Lanterns  only  partly 
dispel  the  gloom.  Behind  an  upturned  barrel  covered  by 
a  blanket  stands  the  preacher,  earnest,  fearless,  thrilled 
with  love  for  God  and  men.  Do  the  men  listen  as  he 
talks  of  their  Father  in  heaven?  They  listen  with  hun¬ 
gry  hearts. 

One  night  the  Pilot  told  about  the  Prodigal  Son. 
“  When  men  who  rob  and  spoil  you  will  not  give  you 
a  hand,  the  Father  will,”  said  the  Pilot.  “  In  the  Fa¬ 
ther’s  home  was  the  only  place  the  prodigal  found  a 
welcome,  and  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  you  will  find  a 
welcome.”  Many  a  head  was  bowed  as  the  preacher 
told  of  how  God  gave  Christ  to  die  that  the  prodigal 
might  have  light  and  love. 

That  night  a  young  man  sought  the  preacher, — 
“  Pilot,”  he  said,  “  I  want  to  pray  for  myself.  Tell  me 
how,  and  I’ll  do  it.” 

“  Come  on,  my  boy,”  said  the  Pilot,  “  we’ll  pray  to¬ 
gether  under  the  pines.”  The  next  day  that  boy  wrote 
home  to  his  mother,  and  there  was  glad  rejoicing  in  her 
heart  as  well  as  among  the  angels  of  God. 

Another  night  a  young  man  said  to  Mr.  Higgins,  “  Isn’t 
there  any  way  I  can  make  my  life  count?  I  am  sick  of 
going  on  this  way,  Pilot.  I’m  sledding  in  the  wrong 


WITH  THE  LUMBER- JACKS  73 

direction.  To-night  I’m  disgusted,  so  give  me  a  lift.” 
And  the  Pilot’s  lift  led  him  to  better  things.  He  became 
a  Christian,  he  studied  evenings  in  preparation  for  future 
schooling,  and  is  now  a  civil  engineer. 


A  CANOE  PARISH 

Other  men  have  gladly  given  their  lives  to  spreading 
the  Good  Tidings  among  their  fellow-lumbermen,  tramp¬ 
ing  from  camp  to  camp,  telling  of  the  Gospel  that  was 
brought  to  them. 

John  Sornberger  had  been  a  prize  fighter  and  a  bar¬ 
tender,  he  had  fought  over  one  hundred  battles  in  the 
ring.  Several  bullets  are  still  in  his  body  and  scars  of 
knife  and  ball  will  accompany  him  all  his  life.  So 
changed  was  he  by  the  help  of  Frank  Higgins  and  the 
grace  of  God,  that  instead  of  being  a  lumberman,  he  is 
now  a  preacher  in  Minnesota.  How  do  you  suppose  he 
travels  about  his  parish? — not  with  horses  or  dogs,  but 
with  a  canoe!  Often  when  he  starts  out  011  his  preach¬ 
ing  trips,  his  wife  paddles  from  the  bow,  he  from  the 
stern,  and  the  three  children  travel  amidships.  Their 
home  is  a  shack  on  the  bank  of  the  Mississippi,  and  the 
canoe  always  lies  ready  for  them  in  their  front  yard. 
John  Sornberger  has  found  his  field  among  the  settlers 
moving  in  to  occupy  the  “ cutover”  land  where  the 
lumber-jacks  have  finished  their  work.  There  are  few 
homes  as  yet  in  this  region,  and  the  rivers  and  creeks 
are  the  best  highways.  Sometimes  he  paddles  his  canoe 
thirty  miles  to  hold  a  service.  In  his  parish  are  lumber¬ 
men,  Indians  and  a  colony  of  Finns. 


74  COMRADES  FROM  OTHER  LANDS 


A  HOME  PLACE  NEEDED 

A  missionary  to  the  lumbermen  appeals  for  a  home 
place  ”  to  which  he  may  invite  the  lumbermen  when  they 
come  to  town.  He  makes  great  circuits  through  the 
woods  and  meets  thousands  of  them  every  month.  He  is 
warmly  welcomed  in  the  camps  and  has  a  tremendous 
hold  on  the  men,  but  he  realizes  the  terrible  temptations 
that  meet  them  when  they  come  to  town.  There  is  no 
place  open  to  them  but  the  saloons ;  if  they  do  not  sit  in 
saloons  or  pool  rooms,  they  must  stand  on  the  street 
corner.  So  this  missionary  plans  a  “home  place”  for 
them.  He  wants  a  room  where  the  men  can  play  games, 
or  read,  a  restaurant,  a  few  cots  for  those  who  are  out 
of  money.  There  will  be  preaching  on  Sunday  and  plenty 
of  music.  Just  such  home  places  are  needed  in  every 
town  near  the  lumber  camps,  places  where  a  friendly 
welcome  will  meet  the  woodsmen.  In  Minnesota,  in 
Oregon,  in  Washington  and  in  California  live  this  army 
of  lumbermen.  We  must  not  neglect  these  comrades  of 
the  cold. 

Lumbermen  who  once  thought  missionary  work  was 
a  joke  now  beg  the  preachers  to  come  to  their  camp.  In 
several  towns  of  northern  Minnesota  where  but  a  few. 
years  ago  law  and  decency  were  made  sport  of,  the 
saloons  were  open  day  and  night  and  the  lumbermen  were 
drugged,  robbed,  and  even  put  to  death,  law  and  order 
are  now  respected,  and  men  in  the  camps  are  praising 
the  change.  “  But,”  says  Mr.  Higgins,  “  this  missionary 
work  has  only  begun.  We  must  go  forward  and  develop 
it.  We  should  have  at  least  ten  men  in  Minnesota  and 
scores  of  them  on  the  great  Pacific  coast.  Everywhere 
the  logging  companies  are  willing  that  the  missionaries 


WITH  THE  LUMBER-JACKS  75 

should  go  to  their  camps,  and  everywhere  the  mission¬ 
aries  find  a  warm  welcome  among  the  men/’ 

East  and  west,  north  and  south,  from  Maine  to  Cali¬ 
fornia,  from  Washington  to  Florida,  we  have  found  these 
“  Comrades  From  Other  Lands.”  Children  of  the  same 
Father  in  heaven,  may  we  realize  our  kinship  and  give 
our  sympathy  freely,  generously.  “  For  one  is  your  mas¬ 
ter,  even  Christ,  and  all  ye  are  brethren.” 

As  we  think  of  what  they  are  doing  for  us  and  of 
what  we  are  doing  for  them,  let  us  plan,  not  so  much  to 
rwork  for  them  as  to  work  with  them,  fighting  in  a  common 
cause,  to  make  every  corner  of  our  country  a  part  of  the 
Kingdom  of  God,  true  to  the  teachings  of  Him  who  was 
“  all  men’s  Comrade/’  Jesus  the  Son  of  Man. 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


HOME  MISSIONS 


JOHN  T.  FARIS  Author  of  "Men  Who  Made  Good ” 

The  Alaskan  Pathfinder 

The  Story  of  Sheldon  Jackson  for  Boys.  i2mo, 
cloth,  net  $1.00. 

The  story  of  Sheldon  Jackson  will  appear  irresistibly  to 
every  boy.  Action  from  the  time  he  was,  as  an  infant, 
rescued  from  a  fire  to  his  years’  of  strenuous  rides  through 
the  Rickies  and  his  long  years’  of  service  in  Alaska,  per¬ 
meate  every  page  of  the  book.  Mr.  Faris,  with  a  sure  hand, 
tells  the  story  of  this  apostle  of  the  Western  Indians  in  clear- 
cut,  incisive  chapters  which  will  hold  the  boy’s  attention 
from  first  to  last. 

JOSEPH  B.  CLARK ,  D.D.  The  Story  of 

- ; - 1 - ■  American  Home  Missions 

Leavening  the  Nation : 

New  and  Revised  Edition.  International  Leaders’ 
Library.  i2mo,  cloth  (postage  ioc.),  net  50c. 

This  standard  history  of  the  Home  Mission  work  of  all 
denominations  in  America,  has  been  thoroughly  revised  and 
brought  up-to-date. 

MARY  CLARK  BARNES  and  DR.  LEMUEL  C.  BARNES 

The  New  America 

Home  Mission  Study  Course.  Illustrated,  i2mo, 
cloth,  net  50c.  (post  7c.)  ;  paper  30c.  (post.  5c.). 

This,  the  regular  text-book  for  the  coming  year  is  on  the 
subject  of  immigration.  The  author  is  eminently  fitted  for 
writing  on  this  theme  as  she  has  been  a  worker  among  immi¬ 
grants,  and  has  given  much  time  to  studying  the  problem. 

LAURA  GEROULD  CRAIG 

America,  God’s  Melting  Pot 

Home  Mission  Study  Course.  Illustrated,  i2mo, 
paper,  net  25c.  (postage  4c.). 

The  subject  chosen  for  study  this  year.  Immigration,  covers 
so  wide  a  field  that  it  was  thought  best  to  prepare  a  supple¬ 
mental  text  book  from  an  entirely  different  standpoint.  The 
author  has  written  a  “parable  study”  which  deals  more  with 
lessons  and  agencies  than  with  issues  and  processes. 

LEILA  ALLEN  DIMOCK 

Comrades  from  Other  Lands 

Home  Mission  Junior  Text  Book.  Illustrated, 
i2mo,  paper,  net  25c.  (postage  4c.). 

This  book  is  complementary  to  the  last  volume  in  this 
course  of  study,  Dr.  Henry’s  SOME  IMMIGRANT  NEIGH¬ 
BORS  which  treated  of  the  lives  and  occupations  of  foreign¬ 
ers  in  our  cities.  This  latter  tells  what  the  immigrants  are 
doing  in  country  industries.  Teachers  of  children  of  from 
twelve  to  sixteen  will  find  here  material  to  enlist  the  sym¬ 
pathies  and  hold  the  interest  of  their  scholars. 


HOME  MISSIONS 


LEMUEL  C.  BARNES,  D.D. 

Elemental  Forces  in  Home  Missions 

i2mo,  cloth,  net  75c. 

By  the  author  of  that  popular  missionary  text-book,  “Two 
Thousand  Years  of  Missions  Before  Carey.”  Some  of  the 
most  important  issues  connected  with  the  work  of  Christian¬ 
izing  America  are  presented  with  a  breadth,  a  clearness, 
a  force  and  a  conviction  that  will  give  the  reader  a  new 
vision  of  the  Home  Mission  opportunity  and  a  new  sense  of 
his  responsibility. 

JAMES  F.  LOVE ,  D  D. 

Ass.  Cor  Sec  Horn  Mission  Board  Southern  Baptist  Convention 

The  Mission  of  Our  Nation 

T2mo,  cloth,  net  $1.00. 

“Doctor  Dove  shows  himself  at  once  a  historian  and  a 
prophet  as  he  opens  the  book  of  the  past  and  points  out  its 
suggestion  for  the  future.  The  reader  is  irresistibly  carried 
forward  to  the  conclusions  of  the  author.  Interesting,  illum¬ 
inating  and  inspiring.” — Baptist  Teacher. 

MARY  CLARET  BARNES 

Early  Stories  and  Songs  for  New  Students 
(  of  English 

Illustrated,  i6mo,  cloth,  net  60c. ;  paper,  net  35c. 

Dr.  Edward,  A.  Steiner  says:  “Not  only  practical  but  it 
affords  easy  transition  to  the  higher  things.  The  Bible  is  a 
wonderful  primer,  simple,  yet  wonderfully  profound.  I  am 
glad  that  it  is  the  basis  of  your  system  of  teaching  English 
to  foreigners.” 


HOME  MISSIONS— TEXT  BOOKS 


BRUCE  KINNEY,  D.D. 

Mormonism :  The  Islam  of  America 

Home  Mission  Study  Course.  Illustrated,  i2mo, 
cloth,  net  50c.;  paper,  net  30c. 

Dr.  Kinney  treats  the  subject  in  ajudiciou9  way,  avoid¬ 
ing  denunciation  or  undue  criticism.  The  facts  of  Mormon 
history,  doctrine  and  life  are  woven  into  a  readable  story 
that  is  sure  to  hold  the  attention, 

JOHN  R.  HENRY 

Some  Immigrant  Neighbors 

The  Hchne  Mission  Junior  Text  Book.  Illustrated, 
i2mo,  cloth,  net  40c.;  paper,  net  25c. 

The  author  is  the  pastor  of  “The  Church  of  All  Nations” 
in  New  York  City.  He  writes  of  many  nationalities  from  his 
own  experience.  Through  his  sympathetic  portrayal  the  child 
student  will  be  drawn  toward  a  neighborly  feeling  for  his 
little  brothers  of  foreign  speech. 


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